Against the Wall
by zdf24
Summary: Just an eventual Spashley story. If anyone likes it.. Rating will vary, so I'll say M just to be safe.
1. Breakdown

Ok.

Breathe.

Inhale. Exhale.

Calm down, Spencer.

It's not what you think. It can't be what you think. Because that would mean God _does_, in fact, hate you and that you are, in fact, a walking disaster.

Breathe.

Fuck.

I resist the urge to punch my steering wheel. No, alright, that's a lie. I punch the ever-loving shit out of my steering wheel and, in turn, feel an extremely large amount of pain shoot up my right hand clear into my shoulder.

"Fucking_ wonderful!_" I exclaim, to no one in particular yet also the entire freaking world.

It's a long story how I got to be where I am at the current moment in time. But, to give you the gist of it, my husband, Aiden, took _my _car this morning and left me, Spencer, with _his_ shitbag car, and, you guessed it! The piece of garbage is failing to get me from point A to point B. Actually, that's not fair. Really, the car got me to point B (coffee shop) yet is drastically failing to get me _back_ to point A (my house. Not our house. MY HOUSE). I exit the car, mocha latte in hand, and proceed to kick the front tire. Hard. Bone breaking hard. Just when I'm about to let God know just what I think of him, I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and glance to see that my actions have been observed.

Ordinarily, this would piss me off even more. Maybe to the point of homicide; however, it's just the cashier of the coffee shop, Ashley, kindly coming outside in the snow to give me my debit card I so thoughtlessly left without. She's wearing one of those smiles that leads me to believe she was laughing at me moments before. I disregard this and rather forcefully jerk my card from her hand with a grunted "Thanks." She stifles another laugh and I stifle my urge to commit mass murder.

"Do you.. ah.. need a ride somewhere?"

Okay. Major internal debate.

Pride versus _huge_ opposition to walking home in snow.

Damn. Whatever shall I do?

I look at her, my blue eyes meeting her brown and I shrug.

"Well. . ."

She grins.

"I'll get my keys."


	2. Small Talk

I've never liked winter.

Never ever.

I think there is nothing worse than snow, and I think cold is a natural phenomenon that should be obliterated. I mean what the fuck? What happened to global warming? I was _counting_ on it. It was supposed to make me a happier person! Instead, I'm riding shotgun in Ashley's car, shivering from head to toe, waiting for her car to warm up. It's a nice car. Really- it's a great car. But my ego has taken enough blows today so for now, it's only a nice car.

With leather interior heated seats tinted windows motorized seats a sunroof a satellite radio a---

"Why so quiet?"

She pulls me out of my jealous revere with her husky, yet distinctly feminine voice.

I shrug.

"Just debating if it would be easier to kill my husband or kill myself."

A throaty chuckle escapes her lips.

"Over a malfunctioning car?"

"Over _his_ malfunctioning car, actually. God forbid I pay for my own car and be able to _drive _it."

I clench my teeth. I will not think of that. I will not lose my temper and go on an ill-advised rant with a someone I only know when I place my order every morning. I will not.

"He's just so fucking selfish!," explodes past my lips (I was never one for keeping my emotions to myself), " I mean _really_. Why the hell can't he take his own god damn car? I'll tell you why. Because he knew it was only a matter of time before this happened and he'd rather it be ME stuck in the subarctic temperatures than HIM. Dickwad!"

There's a moment of silence in the car.

"You're laughing, aren't you?"

"No, no I'm not," she says, a very lame attempt at a lie as the corners of her mouth are twitching, "I'm just wondering."

"Wondering what, precisely?"

"Nothing, I mean, it's none of my business anyways," she replies, "Are you going to give me any directions or just hope that luck brings me to your house?"

"Take a left here. You're changing the subject. What are you wondering about?"

She sighs.

"I'm probably overstepping stranger to stranger boundaries, but I'm just wondering why you'd marry a guy so involved with himself?"

I shrug again.

"He loves me."

An awkward moment of silent now passes and then—

"Do you love _him_?"

Now, for the record, I don't need clarification that this is where I messed up. I shouldn't have hesitated when she asked that question. It should have been immediate. A heartfelt "Yes, I want to grow old with him, bear his children, watch _The Andy Griffith Show_ every minute of every day until eventually we die together, get buried together, and live in Heaven together."

Or some romantic bullshit like that.

Instead, I actually _pause_ to think this question through.

Do I love Aiden?

Do I?

Of course I do. I mean, he's my husband. I have to love him. We live together, share a bed together, live our lives together… How can I do that with someone I don't love? It's not possible. I have to love him. He's a sweet guy. Sometimes. He accepts me for my faults and I for his. Sometimes. Could I accept someone I didn't love so unconditionally?

Ashley clears her throat uncomfortably and it pulls me from my thoughts.

"Of course I love him," I reply, "I wouldn't have married him if I didn't."

Although I try to say it with some sort of solidity, it kind of comes out as a question.

"Are you trying to convince you or me?," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

"My apologies. I wasn't aware this was the Oprah show."

She laughs lightly and shrugs.

"Just making small talk."


	3. Please Come In

After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, Ashley pulls into my driveway and I brace myself for anything else she has to say that may leave me feeling awkward. Surprisingly enough, no smartass comments come and I open my door.

"Thanks for the ride, Ashley," I say, climbing out and shutting the door behind me.

She rolls the passenger side window down and stoops her head to look at me.

"It's no problem, Spencer. If you ever want to hang out or something… Well, you know where to find me."

She winks subtly and it causes me to blush slightly.

"Yeah… uh. Yeah. We might have to get together some time."

She grins.

"Great. Just give me a time. I'll be there. Bye, Spencer."

I'm already walking towards the front door and I raise my hand up in acknowledgement.

Pushing through the door, I feel as though I've been in a different version of reality while I was in Ashley's car.

I especially feel this way when I notice that Aiden, being the loving husband he is, left the house in total disarray when he left this morning. When he left in _my car_. I'm getting irritated again. I take a few steadying breaths, eyes closed, and groan audibly as the phone starts ringing.

The answering machine can get it. Right now, I just want to sit down, have a glass of wine, no, a bottle of beer, and sit. In silence. Nobody bothering me. And then I'll---

The answering machine picks up and I hear a slowly-becoming-familiar husky voice filling the air.

"Hey, Spencer, it's Ashley. Uhh.. You left your phone in my car. So… I'm turning around now and I'm… going to give it back to you. Yeah. I'll be there shortly."

The phone clicks and I grin at her message.

A few seconds later, a tentative knock comes at the door and I all but break my neck as I hurry to open it.

Ashley stands there, looking as though she feels somewhat uncomfortable being at my door and I grin even more.

"Hiya stranger," she says, her eyes meeting mine then going back to the ground.

And it's weird because she's never been awkward before. Well, at least she wasn't a little while ago. I'm usually the one who is socially retarded and finds a way to make a fool out of myself in public; Aiden's commented on it several times in the past.

"Do you… want to come in? Have a drink or something?" I'm aware it's only noon, but living my life, drinking hours are between 7am and 4am. Sue me.

She looks as though she's thinking of a reason to say no.

"I promise I won't kill you or anything," I say, my lame attempt to be comforting. I'm even more awkward when _other_ people are awkward, "Although, I can't promise there isn't something living in my couch cushion that might attack."

She laughs and it's a fantastic sound.

"Um.. Alright. But, only if you promise I'm not ruining any big plans you may or may not have."

I roll my eyes.

"Fine, I had plans to get wasted alone, and it _is_ a big inconvenience to break that promise to myself… But, just this once, I think it'll be alright."

She looks as though she doesn't know how to respond to this and I smirk, stepping aside and gesturing her into my house.

"Welcome to my humble abode."

Two hours and 7.5 beers later, Ashley and I are both feeling… Good.

Actually, I can't speak for her, but I'm feeling pretty great. Nothing beats Corona and reruns of _Roseanne_. Ashley seems content, or maybe just bored, but either way, conversation flows easy and I feel like I'm getting a crash course lesson in her life.

She's a little more open than I am, but I'm enjoying it. She's had an interesting life. Her dad, none other than _the_ Raife Davies, married her mom when they were both only 17, had Ashley when they were 18, her sister Kyla when they were 20, and moved to L.A. when Ashley was seven. After a pretty brutal divorce, one that Ashley glossed over in her story (for reasons I didn't pry for), Ashley picked up with her dad and moved here, a quiet town in southern Virginia, which was a much needed change from the noise and bustle of the big city. Her sister, on the other hand, went with Christine (her mom) and they moved to somewhere around San Francisco. Ashley had her first kiss when she was ten, lost her virginity when she was 16, and lost her second virginity when she was 19.

This is where I stopped her as I was completely confused.

"Wait, wait. _Second_ virginity? I mean… Don't you just get the one?"

She smirks and looks me dead in the eye.

"Well… I lost my technical, first-time-having-sex virginity when I was 16. And…" she pauses, looking as if she's unsure if she should continue.

"And…?," I press.

"I lost my first-time-having-sex-with-a-girl virginity when I was 19."

She looks as if she's expecting me to chase her out of my house with Holy Water and a crucifix.

"So you're gay," I state, less of a question than a conclusion.

"I'm…. Not into labels. I follow attraction. I don't care if it's a man or woman. Why miss out on the opportunity to have something great with someone just because of their hardware?"

I take a moment to process this and I think it scares her a little.

"You aren't.. you know… Freaked out or anything, are you?," she asks timidly, as if scared of the answer.

I laugh, and she visibly relaxes.

"Not at all."

Her smile is positively radiant.


	4. Emily

**So… I'm just getting the hang of posting my story on here. Therefore, don't think I'm unappreciative of the reviews! I thank you now, anyone who has read or reviewed. Or subscribed to it (whatever _that_ means). I don't proofread much cuz I'd wind up changing everything… So pardon mistakes. Anyways, I continue now with… Chapter 4 :P**

**By the way, I would really appreciate it if any reviewer would provide constructive criticism… I don't want this story to suck, so tell me anything you think that might help. Thanks!**

* * *

In the weeks that followed Ashley's outing of herself, you might think things got awkward and we grew distance but, thankfully, we didn't.

If anything, we only got closer. What started out as a strictly customer to employee relationship, she became my confidant, and I'll be so bold as to say I believe I became hers. When I went in for my mocha latte every morning, usually she'd be ready to take her break or getting off from work and we'd sit in a booth in the back of the small café and talk. About everything and absolutely nothing.

It was… a nice escape from reality. (By reality, I mean Aiden and his ever-growing ignorance.) We went to the bar several nights a week, if for nothing more than to have a night out, to dance, drink, and escape the work place once in awhile. I'd help her scope out potential dates, but it was a hard task to find someone who was worthy enough to share Ashley with. I know it sounds as though I was being overbearing, but trust me.

The women on the market in this city were either too slutty, too obsessive, or too retarded to function properly in a public setting.

While Ashley laughed as I categorized all the women I saw into one or more of those headings, I felt I was being a good friend.

And then she met… _Emily_. Emily, with her perfect body, perfect personality, and perfect words. _Emily,_ with her shy giggle, flirtatious hands, and dazzling smile.

Emily.

The one individual I could potentially kill and not feel the least bit of remorse.

After Ashley met Emily, we spent a lot less time together. By _a lot_, I mean I felt as though I had to personally kidnap Ashley anytime I wanted to be around her.

Aiden, the wonderful husband he is, told me maybe I should make more than just the one friend.

I, being the loving wife I am, told him to go perform sexual acts upon himself. In a little cruder of a manner.

Don't get me wrong, I was happy for Ashley, really. I promise. I really was. But, Emily was all wrong for Ashley. All wrong. I'm not just saying that as the jealous friend; the two really were night and day. In the beginning, yeah, Emily had all the right words at all the right times and was probably seducing Ashley into bed every night of the week. But, as the "relationship" progressed, Emily became this tyrannical, ego-driven Godzilla creature that had a hold so tight on Ashley I'm surprised she could breathe. Never mind the fact that Ashley had to ask permission to leave the house (oh yes, they moved in together. Don't even get me started on that one…), never mind the fact that Ashley spent the majority of the time at Emily's beck and call, and never mind the fact that Emily was such an uppity, bitchy, piece of shi—

Sorry.

Anyways. It's been two months into Emily's dictatorship—I mean _relationship_ with Ashley. And I haven't seen my best friend in four days. Four days with no contact, none whatsoever. I've been sitting in the house for four days, Aiden on a business trip and my mind zoned so far into Lifetime that I may never recover.

And, for the first time in four days, my phone sends off one of those obnoxious noises letting me know I have a text message awaiting. Stretching myself out of the permanent hole my ass has left in the couch, I grab my phone from the coffee table and flip it open.

"Hiya stranger."

I grin. Just two little words have made my day. Made four days worthwhile. Well, okay, I won't stretch it that far.

"This better b good. My shows comin on."

A minute later and it beeps again.

"ur porn can wait. I need to c u. Goin thru withdrawal."

I laugh.

"B there in 10."

**AN- it physically hurts me to type in 'txt tlk'. But I felt it'd look weird in a storyline if it was straight up dialogue in text messages. I fully support typing out vowels in texting.**


	5. Rollercoaster

**Ok, bit of a longer chapter… I tried writing a little angsty but it's rather dumb. Reviews welcome, critique encouraged. Cheers!**

Ashley's apartment is amazing. I've been here several times since we initially began our friendship, but every single time I walk through the door I feel a sudden burst of jealousy. Sure, my house is pretty nice. But sweet lord. Ashley has a view, modern day (translates to-- too-technologically-advanced-for-me) appliances, expensive paintings on the wall, and, of course, an entertainment center _to die for_.

I feel as if this is all beside the point, however…

Even though I told Ashley it would take me ten minutes to get here, seeing as how I drove at breakneck, highly illegal speeds, it took more about five. Probably three. Who cares? The point is Ashley is different today. This could be due to the fact that her puppet master is at work, or it could that I'd forgotten some of her personality in the four days I spent in solitary confinement. Or it could also be the amount of alcohol I've consumed in the past few days is really starting to affect me… But anyways.

The first time I came by, I was verbally abused for knocking on the door instead of just coming in. So, from then on, I've become accustomed to walking in, with no warning and giving Ashley no opportunity to pretend to be gone. Today, however, despite that she actually invited me to come by, she seems somewhat surprised when I step through the hall and into the living room. She's on the couch, in plaid boxer shorts and a black wife beater, halfway through a bottle of wine and a bag of Doritos, looking slightly shocked that she's looking at me. It appears to take a second for my presence to register to her, and then she gives me one of those nose-crinkling smiles that would warm anyone's heart.

"Well, look who it is."

"You know, I felt rather pathetic for the way I've spent the past four days… But, seeing you now, I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who passes the time with alcohol and junk food."

She laughs and it's a sound I didn't realize I'd missed so much until I hear it now.

"Yeah, well. I went skydiving yesterday, rescued an elderly couple from a burning house the day before, and today I feel like taking it easy. Yanno, watch some educational t.v."

I glance at the television screen and notice that she's watching _Spongebob_ reruns.

"Educational? Really? A semi-retarded sponge and his circus freak pink friend?"

I say this as I'm walking to her, plopping down on the couch beside her and my world feels whole again when she lays her head on my shoulder.

"Look, I'm sorry it's not _Sex Games Cancun_ or one of your other favorite shows. But I assure you, I have them auto-tuned for later."

"We've discussed this. What I do on my own time is my business."

She laughs again and leans further into me, wrapping one arm around my torso in a slightly awkward hug.

"I've missed you, Spence. Is that possible after only four days? 96 hours? 5760 minutes?"

"Awwwh. Someone's been practicing her math skills."

"I've had a lot of free time. So I decided to get my multiplication on."

"What? Emily not putting out?"

I try to say it in a joking way, but my natural sarcasm comes through and I realize I sound sort of bitchy. Oh well. A second of awkward silence follows, then –

"Do you really not like her?"

"I never said that, Ash. I don't have anything against her."

"Bullshit."

"I don't!"

She sits up from my shoulder and looks at me skeptically.

"Spencer."

"Ashley."

"You've never once had a civilized conversation with her. Yes, I know that sarcasm is in your blood. But, really, there's a difference between sarcasm and bitchiness."

I'm mildly offended by this but I brush it off.

"Okay, fine. I don't think she's right for you. And I don't understand why you waste your time with her. She has all the personality of a crock pot and she acts like she's your fucking warden! Truthfully, I've never heard of a healthy relationship in which one member has to ask the _other_ for permission to go out of the house. _OR, _for that matter, to spend time with her best friend!"

I feel better momentarily for getting this off my chest until I see Ashley looking at me as if she'd quite like to hit me.

"Well, if you think that little of her, then I can't imagine what you think of me."

"I don't think any of those things about you!," I exclaim, completely bewildered as to where _that _reply of hers came from, "I'm saying Emily isn't good enough to be with you!"

"You're clearly saying something about my taste in people. And I guess I have to agree because I don't think much of myself for having a jackass like you as my best friend."

I look at her, slightly dumbfounded by that last remark. I'm trying to remember why I was so excited to come over here today.

When I'm about to respond, maybe with an apology, maybe with another jackass comment, I'm still not sure what was going to come out of my mouth, the apartment door opens and in walks Emily. Ashley breaks her gaze away from my eyes and hitches a smile that _I_ know to be false, but Emily laps it right up.

"Was I interrupting something?," Emily inquires, staring at me as though I'm something clogging her bathtub drain.

"No," comes from Ashley, before I have time to say anything for myself, "Spencer was just leaving."

And that… Kind of hurts. Actually, it really hurts. And it pisses me off when I feel moisture in my eyes and Ashley refuses to look back at me. I absolutely refuse to get that damn emotional over a stupid argument with Ashley. I refuse.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I was just going. I'll… talk to you later, Ashley. Nice seeing you, Emily."

She nods indifferently in my direction as she heads into the back part of the apartment towards the bedroom. I've just made it out the door when I feel a hand turning me around. I'm met with her warm chocolate eyes and I feel like something's lodged in my throat.

"Spence… Don't be upset. I didn't mean what I said. You know that."

"Yeah, you did, but you were just being honest. I can't blame you for that," my voice cracks slightly and I _really_ need to get out of here. I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing how much she can get to me.

She looks like she wants to make her argument, but she doesn't. Instead, she pulls me into her and wraps her arms around my neck, mine finding solace around her waist.

"You know you're my best friend," she whispers in my ear, "Nothing can change that."

I nod and pull away.

"I'll talk to you later, Ashley."


	6. Honesty

**Not my favorite chapter... Seems like it drags on too long for no real reason. Sorry :/ As always, if you hate something, feel free to say so.**

**I'm open to criticism.**

**

* * *

**

"Babe, what's wrong? Why are you so quiet?"

I cannot count how many times I've told Aiden that I don't like it when he calls me 'babe.' It's irritating.

"Aiden, I'm just tired. I had a long day, a long week, and right now, I just want to sit here. On this very couch. With no conversation, no noises, no worried questions. If I decide to sleep on this very couch, then by god I will. Are we clear?"

He looks slightly taken aback, maybe a little hurt, but I'm not really in the mood to care right now. I haven't talked to Ashley in about a week. Yes, she's tried calling. Yes, she's tried texting. No, I haven't answered either. I'm caught in kind of dilemma because I want nothing more than to talk to her, but at the same time, I _don't_ want to talk to her. I'm not mad at her, though my actions seem to contradict that, and I'm not unhappy with her. I'm—

"Are you going to answer that?"

I clench my teeth.

"Aiden. Did I or did I not say _**no conversation?**_"

"Yes, you did, but Ashley's called your cell about ten times so far. And I was just wondering if maybe—"

"Aiden?"

"What?"

"Mind your own fucking business."

* * *

Walking into the bar later that same night, I'm on a mission to get wasted. I brought along Chelsea, my best friend since elementary school, Glen, my semi-ignorant brother, and Madison, Glen's semi-slutty girlfriend.

"So, what exactly are the plans for tonight?," Glen asks, saddling up beside me at the bar and asking for a beer.

"Give me a couple shots of vodka. Or tequila. Whatever burns the most," I say quickly, before looking at Glen. "Do we need plans? We'll get totally fucked up and wake up in my front yard half-dressed and wearing Santa hats."

Chelsea leans against the bar on my other side and laughs.

"Can we not talk about that? I've been trying to erase the image of Glen in his Superman boxers for two years now."

Glen gives her the finger and upturns his bottle in his mouth, Madison looking at him as though she might vomit.

"Glen, how many times do I have to tell you? Act like a respectable adult in public or I _will_ be leaving you at home from now on."

He grins cheekily.

"Come on, Mads. We're going to have fuuuuun tonight, babe." (I cringe inwardly) "Just get a drink, loosen up, and meet me on the dance floor."

She rolls her eyes, but orders a drink.

"If you two are dancing tonight, then don't come back here as we'll be pretending we don't know you," Chelsea says, no hint of joke in her voice.

I laugh.

"I agree, Chels," Glen looks at me, looking somewhat offended. "What? The last time you and dumbass over there danced, I think fourteen people on the dance floor had broken ribs and internal bleeding."

"Speaking of Dumbasses, where's Aiden?," Madison asks, looking somewhat condescending as she says it.

"At home."

"Awh… Lovers spat?"

"No, he just can't stand to be around you. See, I can tolerate you, but he… Well, he's given serious thought to murdering you."

Chelsea laughs.

"C'mon, Spence. Let's have a couple shots," she says.

…..

A couple shots turns into several.

Several shots turns into many.

And many turns into…

What comes after many?

We're laughing so hard we can barely stay on our stools, drinking so hard we can't think straight, and grinning so hard I think my face might be stuck this way.

It feels good.

Until a body leans on the counter beside me and a familiar set of brown eyes scrutinize me.

"Hey, Spence."

Her voice is just as beautiful, but the sad smile on her lips doesn't quite meet her eyes. And there's a sort of tragic elegance about a saddened Ashley.

I hiccup.

"Hi."

"How've you been?"

I struggle putting my words together in response to that question.

"I'm- I've, uh, you know," I swing my shot glass around in an attempt to show that I'm floundering for an answer, but it spills a little and I start laughing again. Chelsea's currently distracted by some guy chatting her up and leading her to the dance floor, and Ashley takes this cue to invade Chelsea's seat.

She looks at me seriously.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"No, nope. M'alright."

I'm swaying dangerously on my stool again and Ashley stands quickly and catches me in time before I fall off. She's holding me from behind and suddenly I realize that I greatly missed her being so close to me. I relax into her front and smile contentedly when she wraps her arms further around my waist, securing me more in her grasp.

Her breath washes over my ear and an involuntary shiver runs the course of my body.

"Come on, Spencer. Let's get you home."

"Home?," I repeat, as though unfamiliar with the concept.

"Yes, Spencer. Home. You know, house. Bed. Bathroom," she says the next word with a stab of irritation, "Aiden."

"No. I'm not going home."

"Spencer…" she argues, tugging me up from my perch and swinging my arm around her neck, supporting my weight on her, "We've gotta get you home."

"No," I repeat, stubbornly ready to argue this point in my inebriated state.

"Alright, where do you want to go?"

I hiccup again.

"Take me for a ride," I wink suggestively and she laughs.

"You're a mess, Spence."

"I know."

I wrap my arm around her waist and try to refrain from leaning too much on her. She notices and sighs.

"I've got you, okay? You're not that heavy."

I hiccup for the third time, and it feels as though something came up with it.

"Ash…"

"What? Come on, walk faster."

"Ashley, I think I need a toilet."

A dawned look of understanding crosses her features.

"Don't puke on me, Spencer Carlin."

And just like that, the alcohol in my system is all over both of us.

Oops.

A shocked moment of silence crosses between us, she looks utterly mortified and I… Well, I probably still look pretty drunk. But suddenly, I feel truly sober.

"Ashley, oh shit. I'm so sorry. Really. I didn't—I mean I thought I could hold it in. Seriously… Oh, fuck. Look, I've got spare clothes in my car, you can change and then I can head home and… Jesus. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. Uh, clean clothes would be great."

"I'm really sorry, Ashley."

She grins, a somewhat disgusted grin.

"It's okay."

"No.. it's not okay. It's gross."

"Well, that, too. But, you couldn't help it."

"Just come on. Let me get you some clothes."

Walking out into the parking lot, I have to think long and hard for a minute as to where exactly I parked my car.

"I know I parked out here _somewhere_," I mutter to myself, ignoring Ashley as she chuckles.

"I think that's your car over there."

"I knew that."

She links our arms together and walks at my pace, which is slightly slower than usual given the amount of alcohol in my system. I stumble when I step in a dip in the lot and she laughs.

"Would you like me to carry you?"

"I'm fine. I got this. I'm a pro at drunk walking."

She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, an eyebrow raised.

"Can you even begin to consider that a good thing???"

"Umm… No, but I know what a good thing is."

"Really? What's the good-est thing in your life right now?"

"Ashley, that's not even a word."

"I know. I'm just saying… What's the best thing in your life at this very moment in time?"

"Honestly?"

"Uh, yeah. Honesty is usually the way to start."

I laugh.

"In that case... Probably you."

She smiles.

"Really? All you can come up with is me?"

I nod.

"What about Aiden?"

"What about him?"

She chuckles.

"I kinda think it's one of the laws of marriage that he's supposed to be the best thing in your life."

"Have you met the guy?"

"Yes..."

"Then you should be agreeing with me. Besides, would you say Emily is the best thing in _your_ life??"

"Well..."

I huff.

"Are you kidding me??? I put you before my husband and you don't put me before your lover?!"

"Alright, alright. Fine. You're more important than Emily. You are the besssstest thing in my life."

I laugh.

"You're full of shit."

She sighs.

"If you only knew."


	7. Fighting It

Well.. slushhy, you said you'd like to have an Ashley POV. So here ya go :P I'd thought about doing it anyways, but I wasn't sure how it would be received.. But what the hell, here it is. Let me know what you think…

**Ashley's POV**

Driving a drunk Spencer back to my house (yes, I caved when she asked after I got behind the wheel) is exceptionally nerve-racking. A drunk Spencer is a touchy Spencer. A touchy Spencer is a giggly Spencer. A giggly Spencer is a cute Spencer. A cute Spencer is… my downfall.

She's riding shotgun, despite my pathetic attempts to shove her in the backseat where she could lay down. And, in riding shotgun, she's obviously seated right beside me, and has a difficult time keeping her hands to herself. Don't get me wrong, now. Were she sober, her hand on my thigh would be more than welcome. I won't lie. But, a drunk Spencer… Is an insincere Spencer.

And I can't handle that.

Yeah, I've got feelings for Spencer. Feelings that I don't have for Emily or anyone else. But, if the wedding ring isn't enough, the fact that I won't ruin a friendship by telling her how I feel is. I've got it under control. I really do. And maybe it would be a different scenario if she were sober, in her right mind, and capable of recalling every detail of this night tomorrow.

But, as far as sober goes, Spencer isn't.

"I want something to eat."

"Spencer. You just threw up on me. Why don't we wait until tomorrow, and I'll make you a killer breakfast?"

She groans.

"I'm hungry now."

"Just wait—"

"I don't want to wait."

"When you drink, do you magically become a five-year-old?"

She giggles and the sound is too adorable for words.

I pull in front of my building and Spencer perks up a little in the seat.

"Is sweet Emily not home?"

"..No. She's… out."

"Out where?"

"She's just out, Spencer."

"You must know where she went."

"I do. But where my girlfriend is isn't really your business."

"Ouch. Be nice."

I roll my eyes, open my door, and quickly make my way around the car to her door to assist her in the walk up my stairs.

"C'mon, Spence. Up you get."

She slinks an arm around my neck again and almost makes a face plant as she attempts to get out of the car. She falls against me instead and I lose my head for a moment when she sighs into my neck.

"You smell good. Really good. You smell like… Like an Ashley heaven."

I laugh lightly and try to recollect myself. The things this girl does to me… You have no idea.

"Come on, let's walk."

"What if I get sick again?"

"I'll take care of you."

"Promise?"

"Swear."

The walk up to my door was both extremely uneventful and an extreme toll on my self control. Honestly, I should be getting an award for how many times I repressed the urge to pull Spencer into the alley and have my way with her. I know she's drunk. But my thoughts wander when she's breathing on my neck, uneven and sweet.

Sigh.

It's a cruel world.

Finally, though, we make it to my door and I struggle to get my key out of my pocket with Spencer slumped on me, somewhere between conscious and unconscious. Pushing my way through, I half drag her to my bed and lay her down as carefully as I can manage.

"Spence. Spencer. Speeeence. You gotta change into some pajamas. Come on. Spencer."

She groans groggily.

"I don't feel good."

"You'll feel better after you've changed. And then you can sleep until next month if you want."

"Don't wanna."

"Spencer. Please. Just put on something to sleep in. Here," I make my way to my closet and toss a pair of sweats and a t-shirt at her, "Put these on."

"You do it."

"Spencer. You're not five! You can dress yourself."

"You can _**un**_dress me, though," she says, but she's still drunk and I still have amazing amounts of self control left.

"Look, I'm going to take a really quick shower. By the time I get out, I expect you to be in those clothes. Asleep. Okay?"

"Kay," she mumbles, throwing an arm over her eyes and relaxing further into my bed.

All I can say is she better listen to me. Because I don't think I can handle it if I have to help her change.

I step out of my shower with a sigh of relief.

Nothing, I repeat, _nothing_ in this world compares to a hot shower after a long night. I dry my hair quickly, run a comb through it and step back into my bedroom. My good feeling was awfully short-lived.

Spencer's out.

I mean _out_. Snoring fit to beat Jesus and it looks like she might be drooling slightly. I groan loudly. I can't let her sleep in those clothes. It _can't_ be comfortable. But, at the same time, it's not a good idea for her to wake up in the midst of me removing her clothing.

Talk about awkward.

So… I opt for plan B: Attempting to wake her up.

I start out easy, whispering her name and shaking her gently. She's not phased. So I progress to the next step: shaking her a little harder and raising my voice. Still nothing. I pry her arm away from her eyes and repeat her name. Again. She stirs slightly this time and mumbles something that I can't hear.

"Spence… Come on. Get up," I say directly into her ear, about to admit defeat.

She rolls over to her side and faces me, settling further into my pillow and a content smile graces her features.

Fuck it.

I can't wake her up when she looks like that. I change into my pajamas and crawl in beside her, pulling the blankets over top of her sleeping body and settle in on the opposite side of the bed. Now, before you judge me, let me just say that I intended on keeping as much distance between us as possible. It's _her _that makes her way to my side of the bed. And it's _her_ hand that is thrown over _my _waist, and it's _her_ that pulls _me _closer to her. But it's me who wants this to be the norm of our relationship. It's me who can never get close enough to her. It's her who does these things to me, but it's me who presses a soft kiss to her collar bone.

And it's her eyes that flutter open and her eyes that cause me to melt and her words that stop my heart, even if I'm interpreting them wrong. Because for a minute.. Just for a minute, she's completely sober again and I'm completely hers again.

"I love you, Ash."

---_And all I do, to get closer to you._

**AN: **I wrote this listening to "Closer to You" by Adelitas Way. (Amazing song by an even more amazing band. Go listen to it.) So that's where that last line came from.


	8. Waiting

**I suck at posting on a regular basis.. But, I'm uploading now and I SHOULD have another one up tomorrow! Thanks for the reviews! And this wasn't really proofread… At all. Forgive mistakes D:**

**Spencer's POV **

"… _Love it when you're spitting in my face. The way you scream when you're breaking all my things. Love the way you put me in my place. Don't ever leave me alone..."_

Somewhere, in a faraway place, my phone is ringing. Ringing loud. But honestly, I'm not too concerned right now. Why? Because I think my head is literally ripping itself apart. It hurts so bad I can't think straight. I try opening my eyes and immediately regret it. I'm in a dimly lit room, but the little bit of light coming through is killing me.

And hand flexes momentarily on my waist and I freeze.

Please. Please tell me I didn't do something stupid last night. Oh god. Oh shit. Where did I go after the bar? What _happened_? I didn't feel nauseas at first, but if I keep up these thoughts of waking next to a drunken man whore… I might seriously vomit in this very bed. As soon as I start feeling the bile crawling up my throat, my bed mate moves further into my body and wraps an arm securely around me, breathing gently on my neck. And then it hits me.

Ashley.

Oh, thank god.

I relax again and settle into her hold. If my headache would subside, this would be the most perfect and most comfortable place to be. I try falling back to sleep but then my phone starts ringing again and I groan.

Ashley stirs behind me, but she doesn't quite wake up. Then _her_ phone starts going off and I can feel her attempting to hide her head in the pillow we're sharing. She grumbles to herself quietly and I don't think I've ever heard a cuter sound in my life.

"Spence, you up?" she whispers softly, voice still thick and rough with sleep.

"Yeah," I softly respond, careful to keep my voice down for fear it'll make my head pound worse.

"Mmm.. good. We should get up…," she trails off and I feel her breathing slowing down again.

I grin even though she can't see me and my heart warms a little when she pulls me even further into her. She tangles our legs together and honestly, headache included, I've never felt better.

But, of course her phone starts ringing again and she let's a quiet "Son of a _bitch_" slip against my neck and sits up slowly, reaching across me to the nightstand and picking it up.

"What?," she growls into the phone, yawning and looking highly annoyed.

Then her face changes into a slightly surprised look and she glances at me, causing me to sit up.

"Hi… Aiden.." I roll my eyes and fall back over, earning a smile from her.

"Yeah, she's here. She got pretty wasted last night and I just figured I'd bring her here instead of bothering you that late at night," she winks at me and it makes my skin flush.

"Yeah… Yeah. I'll take her to get her car later. Yeah, sorry for worrying you.. Ok, bye."

She hangs up and tosses it to the floor, crawling back up next to me and burying her face back into the pillow, letting out a sigh of contentment.

"Your husband is annoying," muffles from the pillow before she turns her head and meets my eyes. "Really annoying."

I try nodding and it sends a new wave of pain through my head and I roll over onto my back, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose until it subsides a little.

When I open my eyes again, Ashley's hovering overtop of me, concern etched in her face and her fingers lace with those of my left hand, holding it above my head on the pillow as her other hand brushes hair behind my ears.

"You alright, Spencer?"

Right now, with her raised above me, I'm fantastic, but I can't admit that. Instead, I let out a semi-choked 'yes' and avoid her eyes, suddenly uncomfortable with the proximity of my best friend.

"You were pretty wasted last night, you know."

I try to compose myself and brace myself for pain that might follow the words leaving my mouth.

"Yeah, I can, uh, tell."

I'm a master of the English language. I think it's Ashley. Something about her right now… She's making me nervous and it's making me confused.

"You weren't _that_ drunk, though… You didn't even try once to seduce me."

I grin.

"I guess you're just as cocky in the morning as you are every other time of day."

She laughs and pretends to look offended.

And then I remember something.

"Where's Emily at? She can't be at work on a Saturday, can she?"

Ashley breaks eye contact and then moves from above me to lie beside me.

"You feeling okay enough to eat breakfast? I'm not the best cook, but I can whip up something substantial, if you want."

I roll my eyes and turn on my side to face her, propping myself up on an elbow. It gives me a minor head rush and I close my eyes again for a second.

"Come on, Ashley. Answer my question."

"She's just out. She doesn't spend every waking moment here, you know."

"Ashley, I'm blonde, but I promise you I'm not dumb. Where is she?"

She looks at me momentarily, then looks away.

"I don't know. She's cheating on me with a few different people and I guess she's with one of them."

Ok… I won't lie, I definitely was not expecting something like that and suddenly I'm at a loss for words.

"Ash…"

"I mean, it's fine, though. Really. I'm okay. It's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Ashley, do you hear yourself right now? The woman is cheating on you, and you say it's fine?"

"Spencer, if you want the truth, I don't even really like her. She can do what she wants."

"Then _**why**_ are you with her??"

**Ashley's POV**

"Then _**why**_ are you with her??"

Is this one of those situations where I'm _allowed_ to lie? I know they say some people are better off without the truth, but does now count? Can I really look at Spencer right now, and tell her that I'm only with Emily so I'm not alone? So I'm not wasting my life waiting for _her_?

I think that's a little too much to lay on someone this early in the morning.

"I just… am."

She looks at me skeptically and I can tell she's not going to let this go.

"Ash—"

"Spencer, it's not a big deal, okay? I'm not hurt about her doing it. Like I said, she can do whatever she wants."

She rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time this morning.

"So that's it? She's cheating on you, and all you have to say is 'she can do what she wants'?"

"I don't think it's considered cheating when she's not even what I want."

"Then what _do_ you want, exactly?"

Jesus in heaven. Is it really necessary that she keep asking questions I have to reply to with lies?

"I don't know what I want."

"Everyone knows what they want, Ashley."

"Well, not me."

She groans.

"Could you possibly be anymore difficult?," she says.

She has no idea how much more difficult I could be, but I hold my tongue again.

"Ashley, you realize you deserve to be someone who treats you way better than this, right?"

"That's one opinion."

"That's the honest opinion."

"Honesty isn't necessary."

She narrows her eyes.

"So you're saying it's okay to lie?"

"Depending on the situation… Yeah."

"It's okay for Emily to lie to you?"

"She's not lying if I know the truth."

"You're unbelievable."

"You're persistent."

"You're a pain in my ass."

"Ohhh, is that so?"

I roll on top of her, straddling her waist and holding her arms above her head, not quite missing the way her breathing becomes more erratic.

She looks at me reproachfully.

"And what exactly are you doing?"

"I'm proving a point."

"What the hell kind of point is this proving?"

"That you looooove me."

"I never said I didn't!"

"Oh, but my sweetest Spencer, it was implied."

"How?!"

"Look, just trust me, it was definitely implied behind your words."

She grins.

"Okay, let's say it was. How exactly is this proving anything? What exactly do you plan on _doing?_"

Oh, my. At a different time, I could answer that second question with so many things. Sooo many things. And I want to say them anyway, but I don't know if she's ready for that. I don't know if she could handle it if I told her all the things I've wanted to do to her since the moment I met her. But, when she's looking at me like she is now, eyes shaded darker and a glimmer of want in them, a glimmer that speaks at volumes she probably doesn't realize, it gets harder to hold myself together around her.

Alas, I can't do what I want to do when I know she isn't ready, when I know she might run from me.

So I roll off her and get up from the bed and ask her if she wants breakfast.

And there's nothing wrong with it when she laces our fingers together and leads me to my own kitchen. When she gives me that mind-blowing Spencer smile that makes her eyes sparkle.

Nope, when it's like this, I can wait.

**AN- Spencer's ringtone was "Don't Ever Leave" by Smile Empty Soul. **


	9. Better Offers

**Spencer s POV**

As I pull the car into my driveway, I note that Aiden's car is there. Damn it all to hell. Whatever happened to affairs? Why can t he go have one of those? I kill the ignition and swing the door open, inwardly preparing for annoying conversation that will undoubtedly follow me until I attempt to drown myself in the shower. Or drown him in the shower.

Now there s an idea.

Stepping through the door, I immediately enter stealth mode. I peek around the corner and no sign of his toaster oven head is visible. Sweet. I step lightly on the carpet, taking care to make as little noise as possible, and ease my head around the corner of the hallway. Still no sign. I exhale quietly, and ease my right foot down on the hardwood that leads to the bedroom. It squeaks ever so quietly and I cringe and wait.

Still nothing.

I begin to make my way down the hall, feeling very much like I've just been thrown into a retarded horror movie. Alas, as I step into our bedroom

"Hey, babe. Have a good night?"

I jump slightly roll my eyes. Does he think of a talking pig when he calls me babe ? Because I sure as hell do.

He's sitting on the floor amidst a mess of testosterone toys wrenches and squeezy things and nuts and bolts and everything else needed for some type of Bob Vila foreplay.

I ignore his question.

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing the radiator."

Are you sure you're qualified for that?

It might seem rude, but that Y-chromosome of his seems to make him think he can fix anything. He lit the kitchen curtains on fire once because he was trying to fix the stove.  
Not to mention the countless things lying about in the garage that have been fixed in such a spectacular manner that they simply combusted with the joy of no longer being broken and now no longer work. You'll pardon me if I'm just a little uneasy with him fixing something that could potentially blow us up.

He rolls his eyes in that cocky, macho, you-women-just-don t-understand manner.

I flex my fingers wondering what they would feel like to be wrapped around his throat.

"Yes, honey, it's simple."

"That's what you said about the stove. And the pipes in the bathroom. And my mom's car, which, by the way, still only goes in reverse."

He narrowed his eyes.

"I've got it, honey."

I hated when he used terms of endearment in a condescending way. I so needed to research Lorena Bobbitt's technique.

"Fine, whatever. But if the house burns down while I'm in the shower, I will run you over with the car. Probably both of them."

I went around him and into the bathroom, showered quickly, and came back out to find the radiator was still in pieces and Tim the Toolman was nowhere to be found. Hopefully some Stephen King type shit went down and he was zapped into a parallel universe.

I walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and a couple Advil. And there he was, sitting on the couch with a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. He was zoned so far into ESPN that he didn't even notice me. Ah, marriage.

What a waste.

I picked up my cell phone and noticed Ashley had tried calling me. I couldn't stop a grin from growing on my face as I flipped the phone open and dialed her number.

"_Ashleys house of ecstasy. May I help you_?"

"You're an idiot. What did you call me for?"

She chuckles lightly, and it causes me to smile wider.

"_Is that anyway to greet a drunken one night stand? Wait, no, I reckon it is. However, a hello, how are you would've been sufficient for a one night stand who took care of you._"

I rolled my eyes even though she wasn't there to witness it.

"Thanks, your majesty, now, did you need something or were you actually trying to call a sex hotline?"

"_Are you saying you re not going to have phone sex with me? Spence, that hurts. Anyway, I was actually calling to see if you wanted to grab dinner tonight. Unless, you know, you and Aiden had some sort of freaky night of pleasure planned._"

I gagged. She laughed, but I really wasn't kidding.

"I suppose we can get something together although I'm not too keen on being seen in public with you. But I guess I can always claim it's charity work."

"_Charity work, eh? Does that mean this is your treat?_"

"Hell no! You offer, you pay."

"_I'll always foot the bill for you, Spence. I'll pick you at seven, gorgeous._"

And with that, the line went dead and I was stuck with an insanely dorky grin on my face as my husband sat on our couch, in our living room, in our house, in our life together.

I think I should be feeling for him what I'm feeling for Ashley.


	10. Break Me, Shake Me

**Don't own the characters.. Chapter title comes from Savage Garden. Please don't sue me!**

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**Ashley's POV**

I wanted her. So much. Too much. Way more than I should ever want someone, especially when that someone was married.

God, I was going to Hell. But, honestly, I didn't even care. Spencer was worth it. Seeing her smile was worth it. I knew she felt something for me. I could tell. Maybe she would never admit it, and maybe she didn't even want to feel it, but I just knew she did. And that's what I would keep trying. Even though it was a bitchy thing to do. Even though someone was undoubtedly going to end up getting hurt, most likely me. I've never been one to just give up. Even when I was just looking for sex, I was never the type to write someone off as a lost cause. And this woman... Jesus. And it wasn't even just sex. I wanted to be with Spencer. Granted, maybe it was too soon to say something like that, but I felt it nonetheless. When she looked at me, all I could think about was seeing those perfect blue eyes every day for the rest of my life. First thing in the morning and last thing at night.

I was in deep, man. And it definitely wasn't helping as I got ready to pick her up for dinner. I think I tried on every piece of clothing in my closet in every different combination imaginable, but nothing seemed to fit right, look right, or say the right things. It was stupid of me, I knew that. Because this wasn't a date, as much as I might want it to be. Spencer wouldn't be going home with me. She'd be going to her house. With her husband. I've never hated that word so much. Why the hell did she have to be married?

I don't know what the hell I did to piss off God so badly, but I'd sure as fuck be happy when he got over it.

On my way to her house, I probably had to pull over fifteen times to calm my stomach and check my make up and check my hair and rehearse everything I'd say to her so I wouldn't make her uncomfortable. Meanwhile, the whole way I had to keep repeating to myself that this wasn't a date. It was just two friends, two friends, going out to dinner. That's it. I felt nauseas by the time I finally pulled up in her driveway.

She must have been watching for me because she came out of the front door as I pulled in and I nearly fainted when she got closer to me.  
She was wearing a red button up shirt, the first two or three buttons undone revealing just enough to drive me crazy, and a black skirt that rested about four inches above her knees. Her hair cascaded in blonde curls just beyond her shoulder, and my _god jesus mary joseph and oprah_ her legs looked fucking amazing. I felt like such a perv as I eyed her up the entire time she made her way to my car, and I had to make a conscious effort to shut my jaw before she opened the door and climbed in.

"Hey, you," she grinned, putting on her seatbelt and settling into my car.

"Hey yourself," I responded, wondering how I was supposed to hold a coherent conversation with her when she looked like that.

The ride was a perfect balance of idle chat and comfortable silence. Which I was thankful for given that I was exhausting every ounce of self-control to not reach over and touch her thigh.  
It was going to be a long night.

"You cannot be serious."

I stopped laughing and tried miserably to attempt a composed face.

"I'm serious, Spence. She's gay. She's totally been hitting on you!"

"How can you possibly know she's gay?"

I sighed mockingly.

"My dearest, naive Spencer. Has your wine glass once gone dry? Has your water glass ever drifted below half full? She's breaking her neck to get everything over to you! Not to mention when you went to the bathroom, she was practically masturbating behind the bar as she watched you walk across the room."

"Ashley!," she exclaimed, looking around the restaurant self-consciously.

"Oh, come on, Spence. You cannot be that blind!"

"She's just being a good waitress!"

"Well, why hasn't she been hitting on you?"

I rolled my eyes.

"One, you're way hotter than me. Two, I'm probably not her type. Three, even if I was, she's definitely not my type."

She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"So what is your type, then?"

"Uh, anything non-slutty, obviously."

She started to say something, then decided against it. "Besides, I so don't think you should be questioning my type when you're married to the biggest embarrassment to the human race since George Bush."

She grinned.

"No argument there."

"Ah, trouble on the home front, darling?"

"Nah. Just the normal resentful, homicidal feelings. You know how it is."

I laughed.

"On that note, are you ready to go?"

As we walked back to my car, Spencer looped her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder.

"I had fun, Ash."

I tried to control my breathing and responded softly, "Yeah, me too."

The drive back was mostly silent, but not awkward. It was always comfortable with Spencer. She stared out the window, lost somewhere between here and there with her thoughts.

"Whatcha thinkin so hard about?" I asked, poking her leg lightly.

She turned to me and just smiled.

"Nothing, really."

"You can't be thinking that hard about nothing."

"Well, I guess by nothing, I mean nothing important."

I boldly grabbed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "Everything about you is important, Spence."

She laughed quietly and shook her head.

We were pulling up in her driveway when she finally let it slip past her lips.

She looked at me, a single tear making its way down her cheek, and she whispered so low I almost didn't catch it.

"I think... God, Ashley, I think I want to divorce Aiden."

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_**Sooo... I didn't really plan on going there with this... But, it just sort of happened lol Reviews would be nice, or, as some of you do, messages of advice of where you'd like to see this go. Right now, I'm just writing. I'd greatly appreciate your insight.**_


	11. Close, Yet Far

**I don't like this chapter. I think it fails. Feel free to tell me if you agree. I'll give you 89 reputation points.**

**Also, bit random, but is anyone out there a fan of the Saw franchise? If so, PM me. We're soul mates and we have loads to talk about. I'll buy you some Taco Bell and errythang yo. :} **

**Enjoy (though I doubt you will.)**

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**SPENCER'S POV**

My breath catches in my throat and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I can't believe I said that out loud. I can't take it back now. I can't shove it to the back of my mind and pretend it isn't how I really feel. This isn't _me_. Divorce isn't supposed to be in my life. It's not part of my plan. I know it's not really a part of _anyone's _plan, but what the fuck? It's _not_ how my life is supposed to turn out.

"Spencer…"

Ashley's voice pulls me out of my revere and I look away, out of the window and up at my house. Our house. The one I share with Aiden. The one that was supposed to be forever. I don't even know when forever stopped being what I wanted.

I don't even know if it was _ever_ what I wanted.

Ashley's hand is rubbing circles on my back; that universal sign of comfort, but it doesn't feel like that right now. It feels like more weight added to my ever-growing burden and it feels like it's going to break me.

"It isn't a horrible thing, Spence," she whispers, attempting to break the silence and find her way inside my thoughts.

"It's divorce, Ashley. It's a betrayal of every promise I ever made to him. It's a fucking sledgehammer mean to break the life we've built together. It's a bullet in a fucking gun and I'm the one who's going to pull the trigger. Maybe it's not horrible to you, but you haven't been here. You haven't stood in front of a church full of people and vowed a love that will last until death. You don't fucking _know_."

I cover my eyes with my hands and put my elbows on my knees, trying to hold myself together, literally and figuratively. I close my eyes against the threat of new tears and ignore Ashley as she tries to pull my hands away.

She finally pulls away and I hear her heave a heavy sigh.

"I know I don't get it entirely, Spencer. I'm not trying to act like I know what it's like. But you have to do what makes you happy. You can't stay in a marriage that no longer makes you feel all the things you're supposed to feel. It isn't fair to you and it isn't fair to him. There's going to be a lot of hurting, on both sides, but you can't just spend the rest of your life living a charade."

She pauses and as I turn my head to look at her, she pulls my left hand away from my face and threads her fingers through my own.

"I'm here for you, okay? Whatever you need. If you want somewhere to stay till you get it all figured out, you're more than welcome to stay with me. If you just want to yell at me about how shitty life is, I'm right here. But you can't just let this kind of thing play out on its own."

She squeezes my hand gently and gives me a small smile.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight and lean back against the seat, letting out a sigh.

"Just tell me what I'm supposed to do, Ashley."

She pulls against my arm until I look at her, and then she wraps her arms around me, finally causing my tears to over flow as she breathes against my neck,

"Whatever makes you truly happy, Spence. Whatever it is. That's what you do."

**ASHLEY'S POV**

Spencer finally went into her house after about twenty minutes of crying and worries about what her life was going to turn into. I wish I knew what the right thing to tell her was. I wish I could have all of the answers for her.

I wish I could tell her that I wanted a chance at making her happy.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want to see her going through something as fierce as a divorce, but you can't imagine the way my heart erupted when she told me that it's what she wanted. It's like a shining ray of hope for me.

Bleaker than Paris Hilton's brain cells, but a ray nonetheless.

I drove home that night and nearly crashed into a light pole when I saw Emily's vehicle parked outside my apartment complex. I didn't want to go up, she was the _last_ person I felt like dealing with after tonight, but the faster I forced her out of the door, the faster I'd be in bed.

I took a deep, collecting breath as I unlocked my door, and then stepped through. She was sitting on _my_ couch, watching_ my_ television, drinking _my _wine and wearing _my_ pajamas.

"Hey, gorgeous," she grinned, looking up from the television.

I nodded in response, setting my purse on the kitchen counter and kicking my shoes off. I so did not feel like doing this tonight. I made my way back to the bedroom and dug around in a drawer till I found something comfortable to wear to bed. Upon succeeding this mission, I turned around and—

"Sweet fucking lord, Emily," I gasped, "Don't you knock."

She smiled lightly and shook her head.

"I find the sneak attack usually works more to my advantage," she teased as she made her way to me, snaking her arms around my waist and pulling me closer to her.

I groaned. But not in an aroused sort of way. More in a "where the fuck is a falling anvil when you need on?" kind of way.

"Emily… not tonight. It's been a long day. And an even longer night. I really just want to throw these on and crawl into bed."

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Ash. It's been awhile."

I hated when she called me that. It never sounds right if it's not coming from Spencer's mouth.

"Really, Em. I'm exhausted."

She sighed exasperatedly and pushed me away.

"Fine. I have to get up early in the morning for work, would you mind getting up with me and fixing some breakfast?"

"Can't you grab something quick on your way there?"

"I'd really rather not."

I bite my tongue. I'm not getting into an argument over something this stupid tonight.

"Fine, yeah, just wake me up when you get up."

She says something back but she's walking back down the hall now so I can't quite hear it. Probably a good thing.

As I'm plugging my phone into my charger and crawling into bed, Spencer texts me and I rush to open it.

**I hope u sleep well. Thx 4 lstnin. Call me 2moro. **

I smile and quickly text back:

**Nethin 4 u, gorgeous grl. Gdnte. **

God, what I wouldn't give to tell her how I feel.

* * *

**Yeaaaah.**

**Big fat fail. Sorry if it makes you lose all faith in my writing. **

**Read and criticize :P I ought to have another one (hopefully a better one) up tomorrow. It depends if I decide to wallow in depression because Tony Romo is injured. **


	12. Attempting

** imaferrari : Saints are doing way better than the Cowboys. (Fuck Kitna, tbh.) They're actually my back up team.. Well. So is every team that doesn't have a Manning on it.**

**Anyways, here's another one.**

**Please, put in your thoughts.**

* * *

**Spencer's POV**

"Aiden... We need to talk."

I should've picked a more opportune time and place other than in a crowded restaurant over a bottle of wine. Jesus fucking christ, what was I thinking? He's slurping his spaghetti up (always the dainty eater) and looking up at me through his eyelashes. He looks so fucking vulnerable and I... I can't do this.

He finally finishes his caveman cameo and swallows.

"About...?"

I sigh and he reaches across the table to grab my hand. I resist the urge to pull away and he rubs soothing circles across my palm with his thumb.

"What's up, hon?," he asks, eyes quizzical and somewhat apprehensive.

"It's... nothing," I say, avoiding eye contact and inwardly berating myself. "This is just... you know. Nice. The two of us, alone."

I grimace slightly at my words and he takes it as a smile. He grins back and rolls his eyes playfully.

"It's always just us, Spencer. But... maybe one day..."

I feel like I'm going to vomit. Here I am trying to tell him I want a divorce, and he wants to start _this_ conversation. The one about kids. The one I avoid at all costs. The one I wish he'd stop bringing up. The one we shouldn't be having.

"Yeah. One day," I reply distractedly and uncomfortably.

I'm lying. But it's what he needs to hear.

**ASHLEY'S POV**

"Marcus. So help me god. If you tap that pen one more time, I'm going to permanetly imbed your left testicle into your asshole. Are we clear?"

He freezes and looks at me, somewhat shocked at my sudden outburst.

"Shit, Davies. Who put the bitch stick up your ass?"

I glower at him. He's like that fucking gnat flying around your face that you'd _love_ to just beat with a god damn Louisville Slugger, but you just can't quite-

"Son of a- Fucking OW, Ashley!," he snaps, rubbing the back of his head.

I grin.

"Next time you'll choose your words more carefully."

I walk out of the break room and hear Amy, another co-worker, walk in and ask quietly, "What's her problem?"

"She's upset. She's having surgery tomorrow to remove a stick from her anus and she's afraid it may not be a cure for her bitch-flu."

I resist the urge to walk back in and take away his ability to have children, choosing instead to walk outside and take cigarette break. It's getting dark out, close to closing time thank god, and it's cold as shit outside.

I light one and take a drag, pulling my phone out of my back pocket and call Spencer. She said she was going to break the news to Aiden tonight over an early dinner. Hopefully he took it okay.

It rings several times before she picks up.

"_Yeah?_" comes across the line along with an insane amount of rustling.

"Is that the proper way to greet the most amazing person in your life?"

"_Mom?_" she jokes, and I love how Ican hear the smile form on her face.

"I'm going to choose to overlook the fact that you just called me a old, blonde, and too damn redneck for my own good."

She laughs.

"_You've never met her, Ash._"

"Your point? I've seen pictures. Overalls belong only on the skeleton dude in that American Hick painting."

More rustling and a half whispered "_God dammit_."

She comes through clear again and says, "_American __**Gothic**__, you mean?"_

"Same stupid thing. What the hell are you doing?"

"_Trying to- Ouch, fucking shit- nothing, the t.v. is fucked up and everytime I touch the god damn wire it shocks the hell out of me._"

"Ah," I laugh, "You should leave that to a professional, you know."

"_I'm not-FUCK-paying fifty bucks for some Jim Carrey cable guy wannabe to come in here and do something ridiculously simple._"

I laugh again. She's cute sometimes.

"So..." I say, unsure of how exactly to bring up why I called.

"_So..?_," she shoots back, still distracted.

"Did you do it?," I ask, though I'm starting to think she didn't.

"_Fuck! I give up,_" the rustling stops and I hear her flop onto the leather couch, "_Did i do what?_"

"You know... Did you tell him?," I'm feeling extremely uncomfortable asking right now, and I have no fucking idea why.

There's a moment of awkward and tense silence before-

"_No.. I just.. I couldn't. Not like that._"

"Oh.." I say, failing at nonchalance, "Maybe next time, eh?," I laugh stupidly.

"_Why're you so incessant about it, Ashley?_,"she asks, sounding kind of cross and annoyed.

"I'm not. I just... I'm just asking."

"_Yeah_."

"Yeah?"

She sighs and sounds defeated.

"_Where are you?_"

"At work. Smoke break."

"_Come by when you get off? Aiden's gone to... I don't know. A play date with another boy or something. We can talk._"

"Alright," I grin, apprehensively elated, if there exists such a thing.

"_Okay_,"she replies, that smile back in place from the tone of her voice.

God, I'm going to hell for the way I feel about that woman.

* * *

**My chapters are always way shorter than I think they are.**

**Sorry if it bothers anyone.**


	13. Sell the Lie, and Give Away the Truth

**Chapter is from "Sell the Lie" by The Damnwells. Listened to it while writing this.**

**It's not the greatest chapter in the world, but kiss my ass. I didn't know how else to do it.**

**I tried to make it long. Keyword there being "tried." I just fail at writing long chapters. **

**Cheerio.**

**

* * *

**

**Ashley POV**

So I basically skipped cleaning 98% of the shit I'm supposed to in an effort to get to Spencer's faster. How I didn't get pulled over for the speeds I was going, I'll never know. Probably luck. Even though I doubt I truly have any of that.

I pulled up in her driveway; none of the lights were on and it looked downright creepy, but fuck it. I wasn't dwelling on my horror movie fears.

I knocked on the door and waited impatiently. Why I was so eager to get in, I'll never be able to tell you. It's just a feeling that only Spencer could ever ignite in me.

Fuck, I was turning into a sap over a woman I wasn't even with. A woman that was married.

She answered the door, looking slightly disheveled in flannel pajama pants and a huge sport-playing-shirt. Jersey? What the fuck ever. Ashley no do athletics.

She yawned adorably.

"May I help you?"

"Uh, yes. I'm looking for a Spencer Carlin. The "What Not to Wear" people sent me."

She laughed and smacked my arm, looking dramatically upset.

"Am I that hideous?"

I chose to keep my hormones in check and dodged the question.

"Can I come in or what? I'm freezing my nuts off out here."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Nuts?"

"Yeah, there's a lot you don't know about me..."

She rolls her eyes and steps back, allowing me to come in and shuts the door behind me.

"So what's with the no lights? Are you involved in some sort of Voodoo cult I should be warned about?," I ask as I strip my coat and shoes.

She laughs. My most favorite sound in the world.

"Right. You caught me. I just got done shoving a needle in your doll's shoulder."

I grin.

"You made a doll for me? Is it just as hot as the real deal? Can't blame you if it's not. It's hard to recreate a copy of _thiiis_."

She giggles and roll her eyes again.

"You're full of yourself. Anyone ever tell you that?"

I wave it off.

"Yeah, but what do they know?"

She smirks and shoves me playfully towards the living room.

"Why don't you be a good hostess and get your company something to drink?," I ask as I plop down on the couch.

"Ashley. You know where the fridge is. It's the big silver machine in that room," she points her finger towards the kitchen, "And if you get confused, it's the one that's cold inside."

I narrow my eyes.

"Are you implying that I'm stupid, Spencer?"

She laughs.

"Not implying, no."

She jumps up, laughing, as I reach out to smack her and heads to the kitchen.

"So... Seriously. What's with the protest against electricity?," I ask her as she comes back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

She looks at me, confused, and sits down next to me.

I gesture to the candles she has lit around the room.

"The lights are off. Is this your way of seducing me, my dearest Spencer?," I wink for good measure and she giggles again, pulling a leg underneath her and leaning lightly against me.

"I doubt it'd take this much to seduce you, Ashley. You'd probably take your pants off if all the lights were on and we were watching _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_."

"What can I say? Leatherface is the best aphrodiziac in the world. Everyone gets a stiffy when they see him."

She looks revolted.

"You're disgusting."

"You love it."

She gives me that universal look that says "Bitch, please," and I laugh.

"Okay, maybe not."

She threads her arm through mine, lays her head on my shoulder, and I should get a fucking Oscar for pretending it's not affecting me the way it is.

I take a deep, steadying breath in preparation for my next question.

"So... What happened with Aiden?"

She stiffens and is quiet for a long time.

Finally-

"I don't know. I just.. I couldn't do it."

I nod and say nothing as she threads her fingers with mine.

"Do you think he'll hate me?"

"Spence... He's not going to hate you. You just have to be honest with him. He's going to be hurt, and you are too, but if it's what you want, you just have to do it."

"I don't know what I want anymore."

"Hardly anyone knows what they want, Spence. All you can do is sort through all the things you don't want until you find it."

She picks her head up off my shoulder and studies my face.

"What if you know what you want, but you can't have it?"

"Someone like you could have anything they wanted."

She shakes her head.

"No, not really."

I shrug.

"You don't have to believe me, I guess. But it's true."

She looks at me skeptically.

"What makes you so sure?"

I turned so that my entire body was facing her, now sitting indian-style on the couch with her turning to face me sitting in the same way, and cupped her cheek with my free hand and sighed.

"Because you're beautiful, Spencer. And you're smart. And funny. And sweet. And you're just... You've got something. I don't know what it is and I don't have any idea how to explain it, but it's the greatest thing in the world."

I'm stepping into dangerous territory here, but I don't care. I can't care when she's looking at me like that. Eyes heavy and her breathing shallow as my fingers paint shaky new horizons across her cheek and down her neck.

She leans closer to me and every fiber of my being and every last ounce of my self control is exercised to keep from kissing her.

"All you have to do is figure out what you want, and whatever it is, it's yours."

She looks at me and starts, "But what if-"

I press a finger to her lips to silence her.

"No, Spencer. There's no 'but what if's' for you."

She gives me a small smile and there's nothing more heartbreakingly beautiful than her right now with the light from the candles ghosting across her face.

"Did you really mean what you said?," she whispers, avoiding my eyes somewhat shyly.

"All of it. Every last word."

"You weren't just trying to be nice?"

I smile.

"You know me better than that."

She meets my eyes briefly and smiles sweetly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, fingers trailing down my cheek and I force my eyes to stay open when her thumb brushes just below my bottom lip.

"You're kind of beautiful too, you know," she whispers, and I wonder if she knows what she's doing to me.

And I wonder if she means all the things she's saying with her eyes.

I know I'm blushing, and I know I shouldn't be. I know this is wrong. I know she's married and that I shouldn't be sitting here letting her make me feel all of this. But I can't help it. I don't _want_ to help it.

She keeps moving closer and all my eyes can focus on are hers. All my senses can focus on is how close she is and how much closer I want her to be.

All that exists in my world is her.

She drops her hand down to my thigh and looks at it, tracing patterns up and down and finally stopping, finally wrapping my other hand in hers and playing with my fingers. She's holding both of my hands and effectively, all of my heart.

She twirls her fingers around mine again and again, drawing the most intense works of art along my palm and then tracing back over them, erasing them to start anew.

I'm still watching her eyes. The way the candle light catches them almost literally takes my breath away because they're so gorgeous. _She's _so gorgeous.

The patterns she's drawing on my palm stops and she meets my eyes timidly.

"Do you think we get what we want? When all is said and done, do you think we wind up with what we want, who we want, and we get to keep it?," she asks, voice soft and eyes genuinely curious of my opinion.

I swallow thickly, trying to look away but not really capable of it. I never have been. I never will be.

"I... I think we do. I think what you really want, even if you don't know you want it, is... Well, it's meant to be yours."

She nods, looking back down at our hands again.

"What do you think is meant to be mine, Ashley?"

"Everything."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A minute or two passes before she saying anything else.

"Can I ask you one more question?," she whispers, barely audible this time.

"Anything you want."

"Will you answer honestly?"

I smile at her, hooking my index finger under her chin and pulling her face up so I can meet her eyes.

"I'll never lie to you, Spencer."

She blushes and looks away again, resuming her art on my palm.

She sighs heavily and looks to her left, staring out of the window before meeting my eyes again.

"Is it wrong that what I want more than anything in this world is to kiss you?"

My heart stops and so do most of my major bodily functions. I'm frozen for several seconds before I can even say anything.

"Spence..."

She shrugs and avoids my eyes.

"It's not like... I don't know. It's just that when I'm with you, Ashley, everything makes more sense. Everything in my world fits. And sometimes you look at me and I just wish..."

She trails off, trying hard not to look at me.

"You wish what, Spencer?," I whisper, gripping her fingers slightly tighter and trying to will her to meet my eyes. Because this matters. This matters more than anything in my world and I need to be able to look at her when she says it. I need to know that she means it. I need to know that this girl, this beautiful girl, really feels what she says she feels.

She finally looks at me, blushing like crazy and I can feel her hands shaking.

"I wish you were mine. Not my friend. I wish you were with me. I wish it was you I was coming home to and I wish it was you I'm wearing a ring for and I know that sounds like way too much right now, but god, Ashley. You don't have any idea."

Her eyes are filling with tears and that's what does it for me. That's when I start believing. That's when I start letting myself feel that dangerous little thing called hope.

I reach out and brush away at a long tear that's overflowed and let my fingers linger on her cheek.

She shakes her head and looks down, still playing with my other hand but I can feel how much she's shaking. I can feel how uncomfortable she is with this. I can feel how much she needs reassurance.

So I do the only thing I've ever really wanted to do.

I take my hand away from her face and push her hair further behind her ear, watching the way her breath hitches every time I touch her.

"Spence...," whispers from my mouth, so quiet but so loud when dropped through the air between us.

She looks up at me finally, looking like maybe she wants to take it all back. Like it wasn't worth putting herself out there like that. And I can't let her do that. I can't let her take back anything she's said.

I thread my fingers lightly through her hair and pull her closer to me, resting my forehead on hers and staring in her eyes like that's the only thing I've ever seen.

And I'm looking for doubt. I'm looking for resistance. But there isn't any. And I hope like hell it stays that way. I give her a small smile, one that hopefully conveys everything I can't say right now, and she returns it, but hers looks sad. And I can't let her feel that way.

I close my eyes, relishing in the feel of her breath washing up on my mouth and then I finally give in to every temptation I've been fighting since day one.

I tilt my head, eyes still closed, and press my lips against hers.

* * *

**If you hated it, lemme know.**

**If you loved it, wtf are you smoking?**

**If you're neutral, pick a side. You'll never make it in this world not having an opinion.**


	14. Goodbye, Blue Sky

**I got bored and updated my profile.**

**It wasn't until after I finished that I realized it's longer than some of my chapters… **

**/fail.**

**Anyways, here's the next disaster. **

**It's not much, but… I don't care. It's better than nothing. So suck my proverbial nuts, yes?**

**Voila:**

**SPENCER POV**

I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't let this happen. I shouldn't be reveling in the feel of Ashley's mouth on mine. I shouldn't want this. And most of all, I shouldn't be wondering what it would be like to have this forever.

She took my by surprise at first. I don't know why, but I expected her to leave. I never expected this. She pressed her lips to mine and for a split second, I froze. I didn't know what to do. It wasn't right and it wasn't what I, as a married woman, should have done, but I kissed her back. Because I never had a choice. But, I never wanted a choice. I don't want to pull away. And I won't. I'm not capable of it. Somewhere between laughter and friendship and subtle touches, she got to me. She got to me in a way that Aiden never could.

Ashley's fingers flex slightly in my hair and bring me out of my thoughts and back to this.

Back to her.

Her lips slide against mine in a way that I can only describe as an art. That's what she is. An artist. And all I am, all I'll ever be, is her canvas.

The tip of her tongue flicks against my top lip, asking apprehensively for more.

And I give it to her. Because there isn't another option. There isn't an alternative when everything I want is everything she is. Her tongue strokes right along mine and I let out a moan, pushing further into her and not caring anymore. Nothing else exists right now. Aiden is but a distant and dim memory. Something from another time and another life. And that life is just a crumbling foundation that I never want to reconstruct if this is what I can have instead.

Nothing is real except for the hand rolling over my hip and the fingers strumming through my hair and across my neck again and again.

Ashley pulls away and I instantly feel wrong. Like I'm not supposed to exist if her mouth isn't moving in sync with mine. But then her lips run a trail from the corner of my mouth, down my neck, and her fingers squeeze softly on my hips. I moan quietly, just loud enough for her to hear, and I feel her lips pull into a smile against my neck; her teeth biting gently and her tongue soothing the same spot a second afterwards. She's going to leave a mark. She knows it, I know it, but I doubt she cares anymore than I do. My breathing is ragged and continues to deteriorate the more her mouth is on me and the longer her hands and fingers find new locations and new patches of skin to stroke. It isn't until I register how far they've gone up my jersey that I realize how fast this is happening.

And then I start panicking.

"Ashley..." I say, trying to get her attention, but it comes out much less than a whisper.

I say it again and this time she hears me, her mouth fumbling along my jaw and her hands still walking paths across the skin under my shirt.

She pulls back, only enough to meet my eyes, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry. I just... I got carried away."

Her hands are still under my jersey, both resting on my side and her thumbs are brushing small circles just above my waistline.

Her eyes leave mine, momentarily shooting down to look at my mouth, and I've forgotten why I stopped her.

"It's okay. It's just..." I trail off, not quite sure what I want to say and still knowing that I need to say _something_.

She smiles, somewhat sadly, and nods.

"I know."

"I don't."

"You shouldn't."

My eyes dart to hers, wanting to ask what she means, but not sure I really want to know. She's studying my face, eyes travelling all over and then lowering to my neck and she pulls her right hand from under my shirt, bringing it up to my neck and trailing her fingers just below my pulse point.

"I kind of gave you a hickey," she says, sounding slightly smug and slightly embarrassed. But I can't really concentrate on what she's saying when she still has her hands on me.

"I don't mind," I whisper, just wishing she'd kiss me again, wishing I'd never stopped her, but knowing at the same time I shouldn't be wanting that at all. But I can't help myself. I never can where she's concerned.

She sighs and it's a sad sound, one that I never really want to hear from her, now or ever.

"I can leave if you want me to," she says, now looking anywhere but at me. And I don't want her to leave. I want her to stay, but I don't know if I have the right to ask. I know we're on the edge of destroying both of our lives, but I don't know if that even matters to me as long as she'll help me rebuild another one. A solid one. A real one.

She's pulled both of her hands away from me now and it feels wrong again. It feels like her hands were meant to be on me. Like they're meant to be holding me together, even when I don't need it.

"I don't want you to go," I finally say, trying to look away when her eyes find mine again, but I can't. I'll never be able to.

"Then what do you want?" she asks, a question that shouldn't mean as much as it really does.

"I don't have any idea," I tell her, looking down and fidgeting with my fingers until hers reach over and tangle in with them, stopping my movements as she threads our hands together.

"Give me a chance, Spence," she whispers, and I finally look up, her eyes pleading and her face unsure.

"For what?"

She looks away for a long time and it's a shattering silence in the room; I don't think she's even going to answer, but then she looks back at me, sighing again and not really meeting my eyes.

"Just give me a chance to be what you want. I know everything's complicated now, and I know I'm probably going to hell for this, but I don't care. We can do this however you want. We don't even have to do it at all. It's your decision and I can't hold it against you if you say no, okay? I get that you're married. I do. I know what that means," she takes a deep breath here and I can see her eyes filling up and I can hear her voice wavering a little more with every word and truth be told, I'm fucking terrified right now.

"Everything's all wrong right now and I know that, Spencer. And I know I'm not helping at all. But just let me at least have a _chance_ to be right for you."

The moisture in her eyes finally brims over, two lone tears falling and she lets go of one of my hands, brushing them away quickly. And a crying Ashley is a heartbreaking Ashley.

"Do you love me?" It comes out before I can stop it, before I can register that it's not a question I should be asking. I shouldn't want to know. Because it would make things so much harder. Because I don't even know what it means if she says yes. I don't know how I would begin to handle that.

"I feel everything for you, Spence," she whispers, dodging the exact question because she probably knows that it won't make any of this easier.

I nod and sigh, but it's her next words that slam through the quiet and shine a spotlight in my face.

"Do you think you could love me?"

**ASHLEY POV**

That wasn't meant to come out like that. I didn't mean to say it. And I don't want to put her on the spot and force her to answer. But I don't know how to take it back. I don't know how to back pedal and pretend it never happened.

Because every fiber of my being needs to know the answer.

**I know it isn't much as far as updates go, but idgaf. Been busy. Btw, for anyone who hasn't seen Black Swan, get the fuck out of the computer chair and go find a theater it's playing in. Or download it. I don't care. That's what I did. Took forever, but definitely worth it. Fantastic film. Aronofsky never fails to deliver. If nothing else, watch it to see Winona Ryder's face.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, I appreciate it, you guys are the best, blah blah blah.**

**Chapter title came from a Pink Floyd song. If you don't listen to them… We have no future together. **


	15. About the Things You Said

**Fastest I think I've updated in awhile… Enjoy. Or… don't? **

**Chapter title is from a Depeche Mode song.**

**Btw, I guess it's a universal assumption that flashbacks are in italics? Idfk. In this story, they are. **

**ASHLEY POV**

"_Do you think you could love me?"_

_I don't think she'll answer at first. And I know it wasn't a question that you're really supposed to just throw out at someone and not expect a hesitant response, but c'mon. We haven't exactly been following the normal guidelines of friendship and human behavior this evening, have we? I'm in love with her. I know it. There's no way she can't know it. And I just… I need to know where I stand right now. Where I fit with her. If there's nothing here and she's going to try to be with Aiden, that's… That's her call and I'm not going to hold it against her. I wouldn't expect her to just run away with me and forget this entire mess, as wonderful as that thought really and truly is. _

_She's looking at me now as if I've asked her what the purpose of life is; as though I've truly confused her and thrown her off that much with my question. And I sort of wish I could take it back, gloss over it and pretend it never happened, but it's out there now. I've done my part. I've overcome that proverbial white whale we all have and I've put myself, as well as my heart, on the line. And I'd quite like for her to join me here, even as she breaks away from my eyes and looks at her hands, wringing them nervously in her lap, obviously avoiding my attempts to pry behind what little she gives me. She has to feel something for me. She has to. Otherwise I would've been gone long ago._

_She sighs and looks back up at me, smiling sadly and my heart's starting to sink. _

"_It's not that simple, Ash."_

"_I know what my question __**means**__ isn't simple, I truly do, but what I'm asking __**is**__ simple. It's a yes or no, and I just want the truth, Spencer. Do you think, on any level, at anytime for any reason, there's even the slightest chance you could ever love me?"_

_I reach over and gently ease my fingers back to mesh with hers, trying to still her nervous movements. She wraps her fingers tight around mine, almost to the point of painful, but I don't care. I'll take anything I can get._

_I try to pull her closer to me, despite the space between us that is deliberate and finite right now. But I still try to pull her closer, even if it's just an inch, but she doesn't move._

"_I love you, Spencer. I do. I really, honestly, without a doubt do. And I just want to know if there's ever going to be a chance that you feel any of it back."_

In retrospect, that's probably where I went too far. That's probably where I pushed beyond what I was allowed and that's probably where I should've told myself to just shut up.

But I can never control myself around her.

_She looks away again and there's a long silence. _

"_I don't… I don't know, Ashley."_

_I know she's avoiding it, avoiding what it means and avoiding consequences. Any other day, that might be fine. But I gave her a hickey and just had my hands up her shirt, for God's sake. We're beyond the point of pretending there isn't something here. _

"_Spencer, I'm not asking for anything. I'm really not. I'm not expecting anything. I just want to know."_

_She stands up then, pulling her hands from mine and facing me but not looking at me, or anywhere near me. _

"_Maybe… maybe you should go." _

_And it's something I was halfway anticipating all night, knowing I was playing with something fragile here, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. I stand up quickly, brushing past her with a brisk nod and a mumbled 'fine.' And maybe I'm being immature stomping out as if I'm a teenager all over again, but I can't do this right now. I don't have it in me to baby her through this when she knows, she __**knows**__, that there's something really fucking intense between us. _

_I just don't have it in me to have her reject me right now. _

_So I leave. She doesn't stop me and I wouldn't let her anyway._

That was a week ago. And maybe I should have called her instead of foolishly waiting around to hear from her, but I don't know if that's even what she wants. And she knows what I want. She knows that I'll wait, however long. It might be unspoken, but that doesn't mean it isn't true.

**SPENCER POV**

"Aiden, could you _please_ not do that right now?"

It comes out a bit bitchier than I intended, but he's frying what little is left of my nerves and if he doesn't give it a rest with that fucking table saw, he's going to be cut up into bits… and pieces… and scattered… all throughout the Grand Canyon… This sudden inspirational idea puts me in a daze momentarily, and when I snap back, Aiden's there, grinning boyishly and wiping sweat from his forehead.

"I'm almost done, hon, besides, you're going to love what I'm making."

"You're getting saw dust all over _everything_ and you're making me feel as though I've been slamming my head against the car door. What could you _possibly be making_ that makes this necessary?"

He kisses me briefly on the cheek and grins again.

"Oh, you'll see."

I groan.

"Aiden. You better tell me now. If this ends up being like your last surprise… We still haven't gotten another fire extinguisher, so just be careful. That's all I'm asking."

"Yeah, yeah," he pushes me gently through the door so he can close it again. It's always worrisome when he's working secretively. It never ends well.

I walk back up the basement steps and into the living room, flicking the television on as I plop back on the couch. He's keeping the noise down now, but I kind of wish he wasn't. I don't want to sit here and be able to hear my thoughts. I don't want to sit here and think of how royally I'm fucking up right now.

I don't want to sit here and think of her.

…

Ten minutes later and I'm throwing on old running clothes, lacing up ancient and abused sneakers, and pulling my hair back sloppily. I step out the door and take off at practically a sprint, not caring about pace and not caring about this incredibly childish solution to the problems at hand. I don't want to brew around on it any longer; I just want to get away. Even if it's only for a little while. Even if it does absolutely no good. I can't sit in that house, the one I share with Aiden, and sit on the couch that I was sharing with Ashley just a week ago. I can't sit around with him smothering me and her disappearing on me. I can't.

So I run.

**Chapters are becoming a bit blander because I don't really know where I'm taking it or what I even want to happen… sorry if you're disappointed beyond all repair.**

**Train is sort of derailing in this story… Someone inspire me. Send me a bottle of liquor or something plzkthx. **

**Also I haven't really been proofreading. So get over any mistakes.  
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	16. A Love that is Sober

**Ordinarily I name chapters after the song I was listening to while writing it, but seeing as how I was actually listening to Community Property by Steel Panther… I decide to go with a different song, lol This one came from Since October. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. Thanks for reading even if you don't review. I'm not a real big review nazi, so I'm not going to preach about that. **

**Thanks for whatever the fuck you do. Kbai.**

**ASHLEY POV  
**

"Why you lookin' so gloomy, your majesty?"

I snort, wiping cleaning off a table as he leans against the booth next to it.

"What's there to be happy about when working in this place, oh great Marcus?"

He chuckles and scratches his chin in mock thought.

"Well. All that really comes to mind is my company. I suppose that's all that really matters," he shrugs and winks, "Most people would kill for that, really."

I raise my eyebrow.

"That's a very loose usage of the words 'most people', if you want my opinion."

"Yeah, on second thought you might be right about that. But really, something wrong? You're not your usual self today. And by usual I mean bitchy, sarcastic, and an all around pain in my ass."

"Har, har. You're very comical, you know. You should take that act to Hollywood. You know. On the other side of the country. I'll help you pack."

I wink playfully before I start walking back towards the kitchen, ignoring a few tables that could probably use a decent wipe down, but I'd rather not make him think I'm going to start actually doing my job around here. It'll come to be expected of me. Nope, it's best to keep the bar set low.

I push through the swinging doors and fix a cup of coffee. It's stale and cold. Nice. Working in a damn coffee shop and still can't get anything good. I lean back against the wall and let out a sigh, watching one of the cooks, Zach, throw some cookies in the oven. He's a nice guy. A bit stupid. But his genitalia is generally at fault there. He didn't choose to have a penis and subsequently live his life as a moron.

Marcus pushes through the doors and pours himself a cup of that shit posing as coffee, takes a drink, makes a face, and spits it back in his cup. Charming.

He then leans against the table and crosses his arms, looking at me quizzically and I immediately begin listing the nearest objects I could kill him with if given the right amount of reaction time.

"So…"

I groan.

"What, Marcus? What?"

He smiles cheekily.

"I know I'm irritating you. But I'm your manager right now. And your work is less than it usually is, believe it or not. I'm just trying to see if there's something you need to talk about. Or maybe you'd like some time off or something?"

I stare at him blankly for a moment. I don't mind the guy. Really, I don't. Granted, there's been a fair few times I've wanted to slam his head in the cash register. But that's just how I'm wired. However, I'm not enjoying this. I know what's bothering me. I know it's probably reflecting itself through much more than just work. But I don't care. This is something I have to figure out for myself.

"Seriously, Marcus, everything is fine. Just the general every day bullshit. Surely you know how that is?"

He nods, and I can tell he doesn't believe me, but I think he's letting it go for now.

"Sure, sure. But if you change your mind… you know where to find me. Now please… go do something useful, yes?"

I force a chuckle, wait for him to go back out into the restaurant, and dip out the back to catch another smoke. Sweet, sweet nicotine.

I pull my phone from my pocket out of habit, checking for messages or calls, and secretly crossing my fingers that a certain someone has attempted some sort of communication… Only to have my hopes trodden as I flip it open. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do anymore. It's been almost a month. A _month_. And while in the past I would've written something off as a lost cause and moved on with my life, I can't do that with Spencer. I just can't. Because I _know_ there's something between us. And I know _she_ knows that and that's the worst of it. I know that she knows but she still won't make a move. Which I can appreciate. I'm not saying I want her to leave Aiden and run off to Cancun with me. I don't live in that big of a fantasy land. I just want her to own up to it. Even if nothing happens, I want her to admit it to herself instead of just burying it like it'll go away if she ignores it.

I take another drag and then stomp the cigarette out. When I exhale, the world is almost clearer to me through the haze of the smoke than it was before.

**SPENCER POV**

"Ok.. what the hell is up with you?"

Don't you love friends? Don't you just love their ability to be able to look at you and somehow know that you're quickly destroying your life? Don't you love how you don't really have any secrets even if they may not know the entirety of it? Don't you love how you can be eating a salad, and there only response is 'what the hell is up with you?' No? You don't love that?

I chew slowly, swallow, and put my fork down as Chelsea continues analyzing me.

"I.. what?"

"What's wrong with you? You're totally different today. Everything about you is way off."

"Chels. I'm… I'm just eating a salad," I respond, raising my eyebrows and throwing my hands up in a playful manner.

She stabs another piece of steak on her plate and waves her fork around at me.

"Uh, no, girl. I know you well enough to know when something is up and," she puts it in her mouth and attempts to talk around it, "there's def something up right now."

I set my chin on my palm and gaze at her, batting my eyelashes.

"Oh, what the rest of the world wouldn't give to be such a psychic know-it-all, right?"

She rolls her eyes.

"I'm serious, Spence. Whether you admit to it or not… there is a bee in your bonnet."

"You seriously just quoted the hat from Harry Potter. I think that's a bit more worrisome than anything happening in my life right now."

She takes a drink of her wine and sort of glares at me over the rim.

"Look, I thought we were just coming out to lunch? I didn't know this was going to turn into some sort of intervention."

She points her finger and nods her head.

"So you admit there's something hovering about your conscience, no?"

I groan.

"Can we please, please not do this?"

She looks down at her plate, cuts another piece of steak while saying, "Look, just because _you_ don't feel the need to tell your best friend in the whole world anything anymore, doesn't mean I don't give a damn."

My phone beeps and thankfully interrupts her before it can turn into something more guilt-trippy. I dig around and around in my purse before I realize it's in my jacket pocket. Getting tired of people texting me all the time if you want the truth. I mean, it's so much easier just to call someone and say-

Oh. It's from Ashley.

It's been about a month since we've talked at all. A _long _month. A stressful one, as well. I miss her. As lame as that is, I really do. And I know it's really shitty of me to kiss her and have all that happen, and then we just disappear on one another. It's my fault. This just... This isn't something I can deal with right now. I don't think either of us has any fucking clue how big and messy this could get.

Chelsea clears her throat a bit obnoxiously and I glare up at her while my head is still in the direction of my phone.

"Yes?"

"Well you get a text and then you space out like it's lifechanging news. Who's it from?"

She can be nosy sometimes. She means well. But damned if she can't be nosy.

"It's just Ashley."

She cocks and eyebrow and grins.

"Saying?"

I roll my eyes at her for about the millionth time since this meal started.

"I don't know. I didn't read it. I was debating the best way to slip a bit of cyanide in your drink."

She ignores this and moves on.

"Wait. I haven't seen or heard anything regarding Ashley lately. You wouldn't shut up about her there for a bit. Everything alright there?"

I guess my look says more than anything I could really say because now she looks genuinely concerned.

"Spence," she says, reaching across the table and patting my hand, "Are you guys alright? Did you fight about something?"

I sigh and snap out of a brief revere of that night.

"Not really a fight, no, we're just... Things are... I don't know. We both have a lot going on right now, you know? She has her things... I have mine... Guess we're just drifting a bit."

It sort of makes my mouth physically hurt to lie like that, especially to Chelsea, but she... She's really adamant about cheating and how it's wrong. And no matter what's going on with Ashley and I, I know Chelsea won't approve.

Chelsea's offering advice again, but I'm tuning her out and instead choosing to read whatever it is Ashley's sent.

**i miss u. wud like 2 meet 4 drinks 2nite.. 10pm th bar? plz? jus wnt 2 tlk... thts all.. **

And just like that I'm thrown right back into a situation I shouldn't be in. But one that I can't help but run to instead of run from.

**yes. will c u there.**

And just like that I'm back to not caring as long as I get to see her again.

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**This is kind of one of those useless filler chapters I reckon. Oh, well. As I said, inspiration is hard to come by.**


	17. Bittersweet Taste of Fate

**Uh. Lol. I don't even know wtf happened with this chapter. **

**Been drinking a bit and listening to Anathema. Somehow _that_ combination inspired me. Idk how the hell that happens **

** I apologize if you hate it. Well, not really. It's a fanfic. Not the apocalypse.**

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**ASHLEY POV**

Half past ten and I'm currently mildly intoxicated and sitting alone, still. At five after, I wasn't concerned at all, five minutes is nothing. At ten minutes, I assumed traffic or something else beyond her control. At a quarter after, I thought maybe she was just making me wait. At twenty after, I thought she had just had second thoughts about coming and it took her awhile to get past them. And now, at half after, I think I'm facing the sad fact that she's not showing, that everything that's happening is too much and she's bailed on this before it ever even had an opportunity to become something.

It'll be harder to face in the morning when I'm not swimming under a decent haze of jack and diet.

I pay my tab, throw a few on the counter for the bartender, and carefully pick my way to the door, sometimes using chairs and tables to stable myself. I'm a bit of a mess. It's not even really the alcohol. Okay, part of it is, but most of it is probably shock. Hurt. All feelings resembling those.

I walk to my car slowly, having to make a conscious effort to stick one foot in front of the other. Then I decide I shouldn't drive. I'd rather not spend the night in jail, believe it or not.

It's cold out, but nothing horribly intolerable. That's a lie, really. It's fucking freezing. But the alcohol still has me relatively warmed up, and I wrap my jacket tighter around me. It's only a few miles to my house. If nothing else I'll be able to sober up nicely before I get there in case Emily's home. Come to think of it, though, I'd sort of rather be drunk if I have to deal with her tonight.

As I start walking, my mind sort of starts wandering and blanking all at the same time. In the sense that I'm thinking about things, but they're in such a sporadic and mindless stream that it's really as if I'm not thinking of anything at all. Most of my thoughts, though, are all centered around Spencer.

My phone rings a few time as I walk down the road, but I don't feel like talking to anyone who feels the need to call, so I turn it off and shove it back in my purse. It's actually colder and longer of a walk than I'd initially gauged. I'm walking on the opposite side of the road, I've always heard that's what you're supposed to do, so when a car comes along in the distance, heading my way, I politely step further out of the road to allow them plenty of room to pass, but evidently they're fucking moronic and think they'll hit me because they slow down to practically a crawl before they get to me. It suddenly strikes me that I'm the moronic one around here. Walking around a sparsely populated part of town late at night without the slightest item to use as self defense in case someone psychotic comes along. Probably should've taken my chances with a DUI is what I'm thinking when I see the driver side door open. I continue walking, head down and with purpose to my steps now, almost on the verge of breaking into a sprint when I hear her voice.

"What the fuck are you doing? It's in the single digits out here, Ashley!"

Spencer jogs lightly over to me, pulling off her jacket and wrapping it around me. I didn't realize how fucking cold I was till she said something, in all honesty. Can hardly feel my fingers anymore.

She tilts my face up, looking at me as though she's about to scold a child who's been misbehaving, but she doesn't say anything. And then –

"You've been drinking."

No shit. What fucking moron soberly walks out in this fucking weather.

"Yeah. A bit. Anything else?" I ask, a bit bitchier than I had intended.

She looks slightly taken aback, but recovers quickly and pulls slightly on my hand.

"Come on. Get in the car. You're going to catch something serious if you stay out here much longer, if you haven't already."

She opens the door for me and I get in, immediately relieved at the heat in the car and even more so when she slides in the driver seat and turns it higher. Instead of heading down the road, however, she pulls off in an empty lot and stops the car, leaving the heat running.

"Why the hell were you walking down the road?" she says, genuinely a bit shocked still. Understandable, I suppose.

"I… didn't want to get a DUI? Or spend the night in jail? Or wreck? Or… all of the above?" I respond, a bit more of asshole as I'm still somewhat inebriated, though ebbing closer to sobriety the longer I'm around her.

She barks a somewhat annoyed laugh.

"And you're only other option was to walk? Why didn't you call someone, for god's sake? Do you have _any_ idea the amount of things that could happen to you walking at night this late? Other than probably catching pneumonia?"

I shrug my shoulders, looking out the window and wishing she'd just take me to my house and at the same time secretly relishing any opportunity I have to be with her.

"I just wanted the fresh air," I say. And it really is the truth. I had other options. But I wanted the time to clear my head. Or at least try to.

"And this was the best time to do that? Really?"

I sigh, annoyed that this is the route she's taking. When I'm really only where I am now because of her.

"I got tired of waiting on you."

She doesn't say anything to that. Her fingers that, before, were drumming across the dash stop and I don't even know that she's going to say anything back at all.

"I fell asleep earlier. When I woke up, it was past ten and I was coming to see if you were still there. I tried calling you but you never answered. I'm sorry."

She says this sort of blandly. In a way I can't really explain. It's kind of like she doesn't care. I guess it's just a very "it is what it is" sort of way.

And I really don't know why that hurts so much.

She's quiet for a long time, and I don't say anything either, because right now, I really don't know what to say. I don't know if we have anything left to talk about given her tone.

"I miss you," she finally says. It's quiet and it's rushed out and I almost don't even hear it. But instead of giving me some sort of faith in any of this, it just pisses me off even more.

"Then where the fuck have you been?" I snap, hanging by a thread and it's really starting to twist and fray and I need this to happen. I need to get to the bottom of shit tonight, no matter what happens.

She doesn't look surprised or put off by my tone, she seems like she believes she deserves it. And it almost makes me feel bad.

"Because I don't know if I'm ready for whatever the fuck we're getting into here, Ashley," she replies finally, her voice cracking and her eyes looking straight through the windshield as if I'm not sitting right next to her.

She then turns her head to me, and I see the tears forming, and I want _so much_ to stay pissed off, to let her feel a bit of how I've felt the past few weeks, but I can't. I lean over the console, whether it's the right thing or not, and wrap my arms around her, her head falling into my neck and I can feel her tears against me. And it's heart-wrenching.

"I love you, Spence," I whisper, directly in her ear and I hope like hell she knows how much I mean it, "And it's not something I intended to happen, it really isn't. But I can't help it. I'm not asking you to say it back. I'm not asking you to **feel** it back. I'm just asking you to tell me where I stand. I can settle for being your friend, I really, truly can. It doesn't matter to me as long as you're still around. But I can't settle for not having you at all. I can swallow my feelings and suck it up and just be what we were before. But I don't like what we are right now. I don't like being nothing, Spence. I can't take it."

She grips my shirt tightly in her hands, bunching it up and breathing deep against my skin, holding back another wave of sobs and it's killing me to see her like this. She pulls back after a few seconds, wiping her face quickly with her hands and looking out the windshield again.

"I told Aiden the other night."

I... Really wasn't expecting that. She's got me speechless here, and all I can do is put a hand on her knee and, "How did he take it?"

She laughs bitterly and looks up at the roof of the car.

"The same way Aiden takes everything. He asked me if I was sure. I said yes. He asked me how soon I wanted him out of the house. He asked how I wanted to split the finances. He asked what I wanted and what I needed and everything about me. And I know he was hurt, Ashley. I know it. I could see it and I could feel it, but he wouldn't let on like he was. He wants me to be happy. And after that, I don't think I even deserve to be."

"Everyone deserves to be happy, Spencer."

She laughs in that way people do when they feel they're being fed a line of bullshit and shakes her head, looking up like she's waiting for god himself to confirm everything she's feeling.

"You didn't see the look on his face, Ashley. If you had, you wouldn't think that. I hurt him. I destroyed his entire fucking life in a matter of seconds. And he was perfect enough to not make me have to even see that part. He didn't want _**me**_ to be hurting, Ashley. And it's like I didn't even give a fuck about him when I told him. I just... I'm the _worst_-"

"No, Spence. What's worse is staying with someone you don't want to be with."

She gives me an incredulous look.

"_This _coming from 'oh hi, my girlfriend cheats on me regularly and it's all good'?"

I lean back, _really_ feeling like that was a hit below the belt, whether she's right or not.

"What does Emily have to do with any of this? That's not any of your business. That's _m_y life, Spencer. It has nothing to do with you staying in a marriage that all but fucking makes you physically sick."

She nods, a pissed off nod and looks me dead in the eyes.

"Right. It's not my business. Emily's not my business. Just like Aiden isn't yours."

"It's two totally different fucking things, Spencer!," I all but yell, voice escalating higher and higher, "You're miserable. Don't try to fucking tell me you're not."

"You don't have any idea how I feel, Ashley. Don't you dare sit there and act like you do."

And that's what does me in. That's what has me yanking her jacket off my shoulders, throwing the door open and getting out of the car. I inhale the cold air outside deep and try to compose myself, and then bend down to look at her.

"No, Spencer, I don't have any god damn idea how you feel. Why? Because you won't fucking say it. You won't tell me what you feel. I lay it all out and you just fucking rip it apart and stomp on the fucking pieces. Don't _you_ dare sit there and act like I haven't been trying. I'm done. You can go back to whatever the fuck you're calling a life right now. I'm not doing this anymore. I'm tired of chasing someone who won't even _slow up_ and give me something to work with."

Even as I slam the door she's still just staring out the windshield. If it weren't for the tears I wouldn't even know that she heard me.

And then I start walking back to my car.

It seems like a much shorter walk this time, mainly because I'm way beyond lost in thought, plus I'm still pissed thus unconsciously walking faster than normal. And the pissed off feeling doesn't do anything but escalate once I get back to my car. I've left my purse, which holds my keys, in Spencer's car.

Fantastic.

Just when I'm debating whether or not I'm going to have to kip out in the bar tonight, Spencer's car pulls up beside me. Her window rolls down and she wordlessly holds my purse out.

I mumble a 'thanks', taking it from her and going to turn back around when I feel her hand grab onto mine.

I twist back around, not taking my hand out of her grasp and trying not to kiss her when I see the expression on her face.

"Follow me home," she says quietly, not a question but not really a demand either.

I nod and look away, and this time she tugs on my hand, pulling me closer to the car and I lean down, my face coming in the window just enough to rest my forehead against hers. The hand that was holding onto mine let's go, and I almost reach to take it back in mine when I feel it on my neck, moving my lips closer to hers until they're pressed together. It's soft and it's sweet and it's not anything deeper than her lips on mine and I wouldn't want it to be.

She pulls back, but doesn't open her eyes. And her next words are full of insecurities and fear; they're barely even whispered and if I wasn't this close there's no way I would have heard.

"Stay with me tonight?"

I nod again, knowing she can feel it when her lips turn up in another sad smile. I kiss her on the cheek gently and stand back up, telling her to drive safe and that I'll be right behind her. Her window rolls up and then she's gone, and as promised, I'm right behind her.

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**idk, readers.**

**idk.**

**and i don't feel like proofreading. so i'm not. =^D  
**


	18. But When I'm Asleep, I Want Somebody

**totally forgot about this until i got a few emails about reviews honestly**

**and to "no" - i actually meant "SLOW up" dimwit. if it being "sloppy" bothers you that much, then please, feel free to go away. **

**anyway, thanks to anyone who's reviewed, i'd say it's what keeps me going ... but well.. given how long it's been since i've written anything... i reckon that'd be a lie? regardless, here's a long overdue update. sorry for the delay, if anyone was even waiting around for it.**

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**SPENCER POV**

I got as far as the front door and watching Ashley get out of her car before I started wondering if this was the right thing to do. I got that far before I was panicking that this was a mistake, that I shouldn't have asked her to come here and shouldn't have kissed her. But then she walks up the steps, threads her fingers through mine, smiles a little at me, and I know that no matter what happens, no matter what either of us feels and no matter how this turns out, I could never regret any of this.

I unlock the door with shaky hands and push it forward, stepping back to let her in before following behind her. She stands uncertainly in the foyer, looking anywhere but at me and twisting her fingers together nervously. It sort of feels like I'm looking in a mirror. I step around her, and given the smell of alcohol surrounding her, it was pretty stupid of me to ask her to drive here. I ask her quietly if she wants anything to drink, and she laughs softly before saying, "Just a water, unless you're wanting to clean vomit up later on."

I smile and move around here, heading towards the kitchen and I can hear her footsteps fall towards the living room. I fill her a glass a water and grab a few aspirin from the cabinet, taking some for myself because god knows I'll need it and a couple more for her. I stall as much as I can, not really knowing what to expect once I go in there with her, but at the same time, there's no other place in the world I could imagine being anymore. I turn round the corner and she's sprawled out on the couch, one foot dangling off the edge and an arm thrown across her eyes, her chest rising and falling quickly, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say she's just as nervous as I am. And I have to admit, I'm slightly jealous she has a bit of alcohol in her system to take at least a little of the edge off. I set her water on the table before gently moving her legs, pulling them over my lap as I sit next to her, focusing hard on breathing in and out. She moves her arm, looking at me with apprehension, and I don't blame her. She doesn't know why she's here anymore than I do. But I'm glad she is.

"Are you feeling okay?" It's probably more of a loaded question than I intended it to be, but she smiles at me and nods.

"I've been worse."

She moves her legs and sits up, effectively making us on total opposite ends of the couch. She looks up at the ceiling and sighs, biting her lip slightly before saying, "I'm sorry."

I swallow and nod and try to regulate my breathing a little better before responding.

"You don't have any reason to be."

She's still not looking at me and it's kind of driving me insane. However cliche and stupid it is, I've missed her just looking at me.

"Yeah, I do. This is kind of all my fault. Because I sort of struggle with the ability to keep my mouth shut and not saying things that I shouldn't say to people I shouldn't say them to, but you don't get it, Spencer. I'm not trying to mess your life up, I'm really not, I'm just... Jesus, I'm _so_ in love with you. And I've never been like that before. I don't know how to handle it. I know you have a life that you've built with someone that in some way, you do love. And I know there's not really a place for me in that life, but I couldn't stand you not knowing how I feel about you. I just couldn't."

She says all this calmly, like we're just discussing an ordinary subject as opposed to, in my opinion, the most extraordinary subject to ever exist.

And she's still not looking at me. And I wish she would because I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that. I don't know if that's one of those things that just a facial expression or a look in your eye or anything besides verbal communication serves as the proper reply.

She laughs quietly and shakes her head.

"I don't know what else you're looking for from me, Spence. I really don't. We can sit here in silence all night, or we can talk all night, but it's not going to change anything. I feel what I feel. And I know it's probably too much for you to understand, but I'm not expecting anything. I don't think you get that." She finally turns to look at me, but I'm still not saying anything. I don't know what to say. "I don't want anything from you anymore. I did, I won't lie, a month ago I wanted everything, but now... I know I can't ask for it. I know I don't have the right. You have your life. I don't want you to throw it away for me. If you love Aiden, if he makes you happy, then I don't want anything with you. I'm not that selfish. I know you told him and everything, but he's crazy about you. He'd take you back in a second."

"I don't want him to." I finally find my voice.

"You don't know what you want."

She's right, but she's wrong.

"You don't know what you want either."

It's sort of a pathetic response, but I'm tired of feeling like this is all on me. What if I completely threw Aiden to the side? What if I ditched all the years we've been together for her? What would she do then? Am I supposed to truly believe that she and I would be together just like that? How can I know that this isn't one of those "wanting what you can't have" situations? She's told me before that she has a hard time staying in one place, staying with one person and committing entirely. I don't know that I'm okay with taking the chance of completely destroying the life I have. Maybe it's not a perfect life. Maybe it's not what I really want. But the security of being with someone who would never leave is a hell of a lot more appealing than taking a chance on having everything, and then waking up one day and it's gone. Waking up and _she's_ gone.

"What makes you so sure, Spencer?"

"Ashley, you just said that you don't want to ask for anything. That you don't want anything from me. Now I'm supposed to think that I'm what you really want? Please, explain that to me."

She runs her hands through her hair and shakes her head in disbelief.

"You're hearing what you want to here, Spence. I don't know how to convince you that this," she moves her hand between herself and me, "is _exactly what I want_. I said I don't have the right to ask for anything. And when I say I don't want anything from you, I mean I don't want anything that you don't _mean_ anymore. I don't want you to kiss me and not mean it. I don't want you to say everything I want to hear and not mean it. I'm tired of being jerked around, Spencer. You're so back and forth it's ridiculous. I love you. I truly do, regardless of whether I should or not. But I'm not going to wait forever. I'm just not. It isn't fair. Yes, I know there's shit you would have to sort out before we could ever even begin to have something between us, but that's different. It's different knowing that eventually, I'll have my shot as opposed to never knowing anything because you won't tell me anything. I don't know how you feel about me. I don't know if I even care if you feel anything back. I don't know if you just kissed me because you were confused. I don't know if you did anything just because you were confused, so for fuck's sake, just TELL ME. If I'm wasting my time, if you're never going to come around, tell me. Just say it. And I'll leave you alone. I promise. But all of this hot and cold shit... I can't do it. It hurts too much."

She looks at me again and she has tears in her eyes and I wish she'd look away. I don't want to see her like this. I don't want to be the reason she's like this.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

She laughs in that "I can't believe what's happening right now" way and rolls her eyes and I can see that she's getting mad.

"I just want you to say what you fucking feel for once, Spencer. Just once."

I look down and at my hands and I hear her sigh again.

"Whatever. I don't know why I bother."

She stands up, making for the door and I don't know what to do, so I stand and grab her hand, pulling her back to me and against me. She presses her forehead against mine and closes her eyes.

"I just need to know, Spencer. I don't care what the answer is anymore. I don't care how much it hurts. I just need to know what's going on in your head."

"You scare the hell out of me," I whisper, my hands wrapping around her waist in no less than a death grip.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to," she says, eyes still closed as her breath washes across my face. She still smells like alcohol but I really don't care.

I take a deep breath and hold it in for a minute before exhaling softly.

"I'm afraid of having you and losing you."

"It wouldn't happen."

"How can you know that?" I don't mean to make it sound so desperate, but I can't help it.

"Because this is where I'm supposed to be, Spence."

"How can you know _that_?" I ask softly, pulling her even tighter against me.

"Because nothing else in this world has ever felt so right."

"Kiss me."

She opens her eyes at that, looking nervous and scared and all kinds of beautiful.

"Tell me first."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me if you could love me."

"Kiss me first."

She grins crooked and leans in a little, but not enough. I can just barely feel her lips.

"Tell me first."

"Kiss me and I'll tell you."

"I asked first."

"That's an immature argument."

She chuckles and then looks down to my mouth and back up to my eyes.

"Just tell me, Spencer."

"I could love you, Ashley. I _do_ love you."

And then her mouth is on mine, soft and slow and I no longer care about anything else in the world.

* * *

**title comes from Depeche Mode's "Somebody"**

**there exists no better love song. /sap**


	19. Hair Blown in an Open Car

title from a porcupine tree song.

enjoy n stuff

* * *

**ASHLEY POV**

I tried being patient. I really, truly did. But when you've spent what feels like decades involved in what can only be described as torturous foreplay, patience runs thin. _Really_ thin. I don't remember when we got to the couch. I don't remember when she lost her shirt. I don't remember which one of us was to blame for those, either. But when my mouth parts from hers momentarily as she's pulling my shirt over my head, I remember who this is and I remember what she means to me and I remember just what she deserves. Her lips pressed back against mine as soon as my shirt was gone and I struggle horribly with the ability to pull away.

"Spence," I say, which comes out in more of a pathetic whisper as I hover over her, bodies flush against one another and her hands struggling to pull me closer.

She mutters something in response as she trails her teeth and tongue down my neck, fingers pawing into my lower back in an attempt to force my mouth back to hers.

And I nearly give in. Nearly.

"Spencer," I say again, louder and more effective as her motions cease entirely and she looks up at me. My eyes lock on hers, darker with lust and I'm struggling to think of why I stopped her.

"Are you... I mean, did I do something wrong?," she asks, looking away briefly as a light blush crawls up her cheeks and my heart throbs.

I prop myself up on an elbow and use my other hand to brush my fingers down her cheek.

"No, Spence," I reply quietly, hoping she's reassured, "I just... it's obvious where this is going.. and for starters, I'd rather it not be on your couch. And I need to know you're okay with this. I don't want to do anything that you're not sure you want."

She gives me a small smile before rolling her eyes playfully and runs a hand down my neck and in between my breasts and my breathing slows down and speeds up all at once.

"I don't know where you've been the past few minutes, but I'm quite sure I know exactly what I want," she says, suddenly bolder than she's been before and using a tone of voice that's going to drive me crazy.

I nod.

"Bedroom," is all I say before standing her up, pulling her behind me and practically running down the hall.

She has me against the wall as soon as we walk through the doorway and this isn't something I'm used to. I've never been the one who isn't in charge of the pace. But when she kisses me like this and winds fingers through my hair, I'll sit on the sidelines every single time.

She finally manouevers backwards until her knees hit the edge of the bed and she scoots herself backward, pulling me with her until she's set against the pillows.

It takes me a moment to register the fact that she's struggling with the button of my jeans an I smirk as she finally pulls away, looking down at her hands to see what she's doing while mumbling to herself and obviously becoming irritated.

"For god's sake, take off your fucking astronaut pants, Ashley."

"Why, Carlin, is this you talking dirty to me..?"

She chuckles and shakes her head, leaning upwards to kiss me again as I undo my jeans and slide them off, throw them somewhere far away and begin working on getting her out of her own.

She lifts her hips as I pull them off and I can now hardly be held accountable for anything I may or may not do tonight after seeing Spencer Carlin in nothing but low cut boy shorts and a black bra.

I lean back over her and kiss her softly and she moans again, making it _insanely_ difficult to go slow.

I find the strength to break my mouth away from hers once again and I just look at her, never knowing something so beautiful could ever exist.

I lift her up slightly as I snake my arm around her body, reaching for her bra clapse and unhooking it deftly. I pull the straps down her arms slowly, my lips following behind my hands and I finally look back up at her and for the first time, she looks nervous.

"Are you sure?" I ask again, whispering and kissing gently along her jaw.

She lets out a laugh and I can tell how anxious it is. "If you ask me that again, I'm pushing you into the floor."

"I'm serious, Spencer."

She sighs and nods, hooking a finger under my chin and looking at me in a way that makes me fall for her all over again.

"Make love to me, Ashley."

**SPENCER POV**

I groan and stretch, sighing deliciously as my back pops and I settle deeper into my pillows. Fingers splay across my stomach, tapping out an unknown rhythm and I smile turning on my side and pushing myself closer into Ashley who moves her hand to my hip, squeezing lightly before tapping again.

"Hiya stranger," she says, smiling, with her voice still thick and husky from sleep. Her eyes look both amused and nervous and it makes me smile wider as I scoot closer to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I love you," it comes out naturally, like a habit I'd never want to break, but, while I mean it more than I could ever tell her, it wasn't what I had intended to say and I groan, burying my head under the pillow as she smirks at me.

"What was that?" she asks sweetly, running her fingers along my sides.

"I said 'good morning'," is my reply from under the solitude of this pillow, where she can't see me blushing and turning into a total mess.

I feel a kiss placed to my shoulder, then to my neck, and finally just in front of my ear.

"Then I really like the way you say good morning," she whispers, melting my heart in the process.

I'm blushing harder and even more thankful that she can't see me.

I feel the sheets being pushed further down the bed and think nothing of it until I remember how completely and utterly naked I still am, which causes me to reach blindly around below me to pull the covers back up and instead I'm met with a hand that laces it's fingers through mine.

"I don't think so, gorgeous," she says, chuckling lightly as I hold up a lone finger to her.

"I either get to see your face or your body, woman," she says, placing delicate kisses up my stomach and across my chest. I remember where that mouth was last night and blush even more.

"You're stuck with the body then," I retort from under my pillow, wishing I could see _her_ body right now.

"Not a problem."

I feel a hand tracing teasing patterns against my inner thigh and fight desperately to hold back a moan.

"Spenceee..." she drawls out, walking her fingers up across my stomach and then back down.

"Mmfph," is my incredibly articulate reply.

She laughs again, but this time in less of an amused way and more of a hot way. A sexy way. An Ashley way.

"If you come out right now, I'll do anything you want," she whispers seductively, fingers still painting masterpieces across my skin.

I peek an eye out at her.

"Anything?"

"Anything. _Everything_." she emphasizes by kissing the trail her fingers have burned.

I finally pull my head out and she smiles, moving up my body and placing a goofy kiss on my lips.

"What would you like?" she practically purrs, and my stomach is gone, my heart beat it right out of my body and I may never get it back.

I try to pull a thinking face and she looks at me expectantly. Eagerly.

"Scrambled eggs and toast."

She shakes her head, laughing, and rolls me over to pin me beneath her.

"After I do what _I_ want," she whispers, leaning down to capture my lips between hers again.


	20. Kissing is a Color

**thanks to anyone who's reviewed and/or favorited/subscribed. may god bless your soul. or whoever the hell is up there.**

**title comes from a song by Roxette.  
**

**moving onward:  
**

**SPENCER POV**

"I've got to find a job."

Ashley mumbles an incoherent response from her spot behind me on the couch.

"You're not even listening to me, are you?"

A grunt this time, followed by a content and adorable sigh against the back of my neck as she pushes further against me.

"Let's have sex."

That gets her attention, one hand crawling across my waist and her mouth pressing gentle kisses against my neck and shoulders.

"Yeah?" she husks, trailing a few fingers just above the waistline of my shorts.

"No, I was just trying to get your attention," I laugh as she groans and pulls her hand back, and bites my neck playfully.

"I so don't like you right now."

"And I _so_ don't like you falling asleep when I'm trying to talk to you."

"I wasn't asleep, I was just dozing."

"What the hell is the difference?"

"Dozing is the stage before sleep. The one that, if you're woken up from, murder is entirely justifiable unless you're woken up to engage in sexual activities."

I laugh and turn around to face her, slowly as to ensure I don't fall off the edge of the couch. I tuck my head underneath her chin and she pulls me tighter against her, and I've never felt as good as I do right now.

"Whatever. I was saying I need to find a job."

"You have one."

"No... I don't."

Her hand wanders up my shirt a bit, tickling the skin along my lower back.

"I'll give you one. Ensure that you're available for sex 24/7 and I'll pay you 15 bucks an hour. Twenty if there's foreplay."

I laugh again, blushing slightly and feel thankful she can't see.

"As appealing as that sounds, I need a real job. I can't afford this place on a high class hooker salary."

"So move in with me," is her reply, as she presses a kiss against the top of my head.

"No way. Plus I'd still need a job to split the rent."

"What? I can pay for that place easy, Spence. I have plenty of money. I wouldn't ask you to help out. I can afford to take care of you. And several other women if you're into that sort of thing," she squeezes my hip gently to let me know the last part is a joke.

I know she could and she would, but if this is going to go anywhere... I know that isn't the way we should start off.

"I don't want you to do that. That throws all of this completely out of balance."

"By 'throws this out of balance' do you really mean 'goes against my freakishly large amount of pride'?"

I roll my eyes, "No, idiot. It just can't work that way. That's what's already happened. I quit my job and relied on Aiden and look whe-"

She pulls away enough to drop a finger under my chin to tilt my face towards hers.

"Money had nothing to do with that, Spencer. It had nothing to do with you quitting your job. Sometimes this just happens," she studies my face briefly and then grins, "Plus, I so would've got you regardless of your relationship status."

I roll my eyes and laugh, "What makes you think I'd come so willingly?"

She gives me an insanely sexy smirk and palms my breasts slightly over top of my shirt.

"I seem to recall you _coming_ completely willingly _several _times last night. And this morning. _And _this aftern-"

I blush and smile, putting my hand over her mouth to stop her.

"Okay, I get it," I say, gasping when she opens her mouth and slobbers all over my hand.

"Ashley! That's _disgusting_!"

"I'm sorry," she grins, not looking like it at all.

I wipe my hand on her shirt and she leans down a bit to kiss me, nibbling my lip gently and groaning when the house phone starts getting it. I pull away go to sit up and find my self pulled back down.

"Let it ring. I was in the middle of something here."

"Ashley," I say, laughing as she continues to prevent me from getting up, "What if it's important?"

"What if it's not and you break this lovely moment for nothing?"

Who am I to argue with such logic?

**ASHLEY POV**

I sigh as I look over at the clock for the millionth time, wishing it would move faster. Another 4 hours before I can get off work. Four hours till I can see Spencer. I groan and refill another customer's cup and wonder if I should just quit today. I've got more than enough money to last for several life times. The perks of being a trust fund baby with rich parents, eh? I like working though. I can't stand sitting around all the time. Well, I _didn't_. But with Spencer... I'm sure I wouldn't mind being unemployed and spending the greater part of my life under the covers.

"You've so been getting laid."

I nearly jump out of my skin in the breakroom at the table. Marcus is smirking at me and looking like a typical male envisioning to women going at it.

"You've so not been."

He laughs and sits down across from me.

"Spill it. What's her name? And please, don't forego the details."

I shake my head, "Nobody, and there's no details."

Now he looks even more interested.

"Wow. You must be pretty interested to go with the whole 'privacy respect' approach."

That's not really it. I know he knows Spencer, she's a regular here and they're on pretty friendly terms, and until I know where we stand and what we are, I just don't know if it's a good idea to tell him we've been sleeping together. One- I'd never hear the end of it. Two- I don't want to risk pissing her off. Three- He'd tell the whole world. Four- I don't want to risk pissing her off.

"I haven't been getting laid, Marcus," I reply. In an obvious lying manner, but it doesn't matter. He'll still drop it.

"Yeah, right. You can practically smell it on you," he says grinning, "But, have it your way. You _will_ tell me eventually, though," he winks and walks away and I grab my phone out of my pocket, pulling up Spencer's number and sending her a message.

**wat r u wearing? ;]**

Less than thirty seconds later, she replies.

**earrings**

I swallow thickly at that mental image and almost groan.

I really need to quit my job.

I put my phone back in my pocket and get up, trying to decide if I should pretend to be sick so I can get the hell out of this place and over to Spencer's. I wanted to take her out tonight on a legitimate date (I know, a little backwards, but it'll be okay), but I'm not so sure that'll happen once I'm close enough to touch her. I've never felt like this before. It sounds cliche and I never really understood what people meant, but she's different. She makes me _want_ to be different. I mean, I'm not exactly what you'd call a whore; when I'm with someone, I'm faithful. But I've... been around the block, so to speak. And this isn't something I'm accustomed to. It's a foreign feeling to literally be counting the minutes until I'll be able to see someone again. I'm not complaining, far from it, it's just new to me. It's not something I want to lose.

I go out and wait a few tables, completely and totally operating on autopilot and not even really seeing faces. I fill cups and deliver food, walking over to a customer who's sat in the secluded back corner and nearly die when I feel a hand grab my ass and then jerk me by my hand into the empty space in the booth.

"I missed you," I hear a familiar voice whisper in my ear and lips trail quickly down my neck and a soft hand drift around the skin that became exposed as I took a seat in my skirt. "And you _really_ shouldn't be wearing something _this_ hot to work," she breathes across my cheek, nearly causing me to have heart failure.

"Spencer.." I try to find my voice, but this side of her, this _insanely sexy_ side of her has made me feel like I've lost my voice forever. Can't say that I care too much, though.

She pulls her hands back to herself and smiles innocently.

"Hi."

I shake my head, grinning, and crane my head out to peer around the corner to see if I'm needed. As if I'd get up even if I was. I turn back to face her and pout playfully.

"You put on clothing."

She laughs rolls her eyes, pointing to a sign in the window: _No shoes, no shirt, no service_. "What about that?"

I look pointedly at her. "One- it says nothing about pants. Two- I'll give you _any_ kind of service no matter _what_ you're wearing," I give her an exaggerated wink and smile.

A blush comes across her cheeks and I love it. I love how she can go from bold and sexy one minute, to embarrassed and adorable the next.

"So, do you want something or did you just come to see me?" I grin widely and lace our fingers together under the table, wanting to lean over and kiss her but not sure how she wants to go about this publicly.

She looks at me like I'm retarded and says, "What do _you_ think?"

"I think you came to have a quickie in the restroom. Please tell me I'm right," is my reply, wiggling my eyebrows and laugh as she shakes her head and tries to subtly look around to see if anyone heard.

"Not exactly," she says, "I kind of want a coffee, too."

I get up and lean over the table towards her, grinning when her eyes stray about a foot below eye level and remain there.

"Meet me outside around back and I'll bring you a coffee."

She looks skeptical.

"It's cold outside."

"I'll keep you warm."

"With _that_?," she says, indicating my skirt and lack of jacket.

"I'll start a dumpster fire. Just get your ass out there, Carlin," I demand playfully, kissing her cheek quickly after looking around first.

I make my way behind the counter, make her coffee and watch her slip out the front door. I tell Marcus I'm stepping outside and he grunts in acknowledgement.

I push the backdoor open and see her leaning against the wall, looking ridiculously cute all bundled up and cheeks slightly red from the chill.

"It's freezing," she whines, taking her coffee and pulling me against her and I wrap my arms around her, "How are you not contracting hypothermia in that poor excuse for an outfit?"

I laugh and kiss her, tasting coffee and something else. Something that's just Spencer.

It gets heated quickly; I barely register the sound of her dropping her styrofoam cup so she can lace her fingers through my hair and pull me closer. I pull back to breathe, licking my lips and resting my forehead against hers, arms still wrapped tight around her waist and my fingers dragging against her skin under the material of her thick jacket.

"You should visit me at work more often," I say, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling at her.

"You should quit your job and visit me at home more often. You know. Within the confines of a heated atmosphere and the lack of public attention."

"I can make us a heated atmosphere. And I don't mind giving them a show," I grin mischievously and reach down slightly, grabbing the back of her thighs and lifting her legs around my waist, using the side of the building to help support her weight.

She laughs and gives me a look that makes my knees weak and almost force me to drop her.

She flexes her thighs against me, holding me tighter while simultaneously using her arms to pull my torso closer to hers, trailing kiss down my neck and to the very end of the exposed skin of my v-neck shirt.

"You should _really_ visit me at work more often," I breathe out, squeezing her thighs gently and leaning further into her.

"I might have to," she says, meeting my eyes again and giving me a sweet smile, "I was missing you the second you got out of bed this morning."

"You should've said something. I would've called in. I have a foolproof sick voice."

She laughs, "I'm not going to be responsible for you missing work."

"You _just _told me I should quit. What exactly is that?"

"Quitting and calling in are two totally different things," she argues back, keeping a serious face but her eyes giving her away.

"How do you figure?"

"I just do."

"You have the worst logic of anyone I have ever met," I say, pressing her back into the wall and attaching my lips to her neck, sucking gently.

"Don't you dare give me a hickey, Ashley Davies."

I chuckle lightly.

"You need one to match the one I left just above your-"

"Shut up. I didn't know that's what you were doing."

"So you're admitting that you space out during our most intimate moments?"

"Not my fault. You make it boring."

I pretend to be drastically offended and try to pull her legs off of me but she clings tighter and laughs.

"Take it back," I growl, giving her a playful glare.

"Never," she says, moving her lips against mine but I pull just out of her reach.

"Take it back or I'll never kiss you again."

"What punishment. You should work for the mafia."

I pinch her ass lightly and glare again.

"Okay, I'm definitely giving you a hickey for that."

She tries moving away and I pull her closer, having to hold on hard as she starts laughing harder, struggling against my arms and trying to pull her legs down.

She wiggles down so that all I can reach is her cheek and her ear.

I gently kiss a trail across her cheek to her ear, pulling her lobe gently between my teeth.

"I'm so in love with you, Spencer."

She says it back and flexes her fingers against my hips and kisses my collarbone gently.

And I wonder if it'll always be this perfect.


	21. More than Just a Night

**feelin pretty less than sober atm. so. uh. forgive any mess ups or what have you. someone seriously needs to volunteer to proofread all my shit. it pays nothing but if you're lucky I might throw you a compliment every once in awhile or something.**

**but don't bank on it.**

**anyway- title comes from a tom petty song. read n review n stuff.**

**oh, and i keep getting pms for my facebook though i honestly don't know why any of you would want to know me outside of this place, so i added it to the homepage/website thing/wtfe it is because i don't feel like looking thing on my profile. if you can find out exactly where i live, come on by. i'll buy us drinks and we'll go cow tippin.**

* * *

**SPENCER POV**

"I'll come with you. I really don't mind, Spence. I want to."

I smile softly and take my bag from Ashley, put it in my trunk and pull her against me. She pouts adorably and it makes me smile wider and kiss her cheek gently.

"I know you don't mind. But it's something I just have to do on my own. I just don't know how it would go over if I was like 'hi, mom, I'm divorcing Aiden, this is my girlfriend, who by the way, I was technically with before I even ended my marriage.. so what's for dinner?'"

"I don't caaare," she whines like a little kid, "I don't want to be away from you for an entire weekend. I'll hide under your bed or something. You can bring my scraps from the dinner table and I'll sexually assault you in your childhood bed under the cover of nightfall. It'll be totally hot."

I laugh and press my face into her neck, actually somewhat tempted to take her up on it because I know I'm going to miss her.

"You're retarded."

"I'm just trying to look out for myself. Chances are I'll be on the news for a suicide attempt an hour after you leave."

"That _would _be a pretty interesting way of telling my parents about you."

She groans.

"Come on. Just let me go with you. Chances are even if you say no, I'll just stalk you and watch you from afar. Which will inevitably be noticed by the neighbors and they'll call the police and then I'll end up in jail and could you _really _live with yourself knowing that I'm being violated every night by some ridiculously butch woman who most likely has crabs and other diseases I don't _even _want to think about and-"

"Stop being so dramatic."

She gives me a look that almost makes me want to call this whole thing off and just spend the entire weekend with her in bed. Almost.

"Look, it's just one weekend. Not even a _whole_ one. I'll be back by five Sunday evening. You won't even have time to miss me."

She groans and pushes into me, wrapping me up tight and making me smile when she says, "Then how come I miss you already?"

"Because you're being stupid. Come on. The quicker I get going the quicker I'll be back. Who knows, maybe my mom will completely disown me and I'll be back by tonight?"

She smiles just a little, but it's a smile nonetheless.

"Is it wrong that some part of me is hoping for that...?"

I smack her and try to move away but she's got me in a death grip.

"You're horrible."

"You love it."

"_No_, I don't."

"_Yes_, you do."

I shake my head and she rests her forehead against mine.

"Kiss me?" she says, voice thicker and eyes stabbing into my own.

"Uh, no way," is my response, somewhat forceful because I want to do _much_ more than just kiss her when she looks at me like that.

"You're fixing to leave for like... ever and you won't even give me a goodbye kiss?"

"One weekend and no, I will not."

"Come on, Spencer," she husks, pushing her hands just a bit up my shirt and grinning victoriously when I shiver involuntarily shiver.

"Fine," I say, leaning in like I'm repulsed by her and peck her super quick on her lips.

"That _hardly _counts as contact, much less a kiss."

"You _hardly _deserve contact right now, much less a kiss."

She chuckles lightly and runs a finger down my jawline, "I love you, you know."

And then I kiss her like I'm leaving for war.

**ASHLEY POV**

It's two in the morning and I'm watching _MTV Cribs_ and working my way through a six pack of Corona. Yeah, I might just be a little pathetic when Spencer isn't around. I've been waiting for her to call for ages (seeing as how I was guaranteed to hear from her by midnight at the _very_ latest).

I'm so lame.

The phone finally, _finally_ rings and instead of letting it go off for a bit just to mess with her, in my needy state I pick it up after it's barely rang two seconds.

"I've been worried sick. You better have a damn good excuse for keeping me waiting."

She laughs a different laugh than she normally would and says, "_Don't pretend like you were worried when all you were was needy_."

"Of course I'm needy. The girl I love is practically on the otherside of the universe and I've completely written off everyone else from my life because said girl makes everyone else pale in comparison and why surround myself with second class citizens?"

I hear her laugh (and I can almost hear a blush creeping up her cheeks) and it makes me feel better, even though I can tell she's a little off right now.

"So how'd it go?" I ask, softening my voice a little, trying to let her know I don't want her to talk about it if _she _doesn't want to.

"_Okay I guess... It could've been worse._"

I roll my eyes even though she can't see me, "Gee, you sure have a knack for details."

"_Yeaah well... I haven't been lynched or anything yet. So I'm taking that as good sign._"

I pick nervously at the blanket covering my legs and ask, "So what exactly did you say?"

She sighs lightly and then takes a breath.

"_I said I was going to divorce Aiden_."

"Did you tell them about me?"

There's a quick silence followed by a soft, "_No_."

"Oh."

"_Yeah. Look, Ash, it's not that... I __**don't**__ want them to know or anything, ok? It's just... not right now. I'd rather keep the load light, ya know? Plus it would be difficult to describe you in words... you're one of those 'you won't understand why I love her unless you meet her because when I try to put it in words, all I can think of is annoying, cute, and clingy' kind of people. I wouldn't do you justice._"

I laugh gently and tell her I know.

"_You know I'm not ashamed of you, right?_"

"Right."

"_This is still new to me. And I'm sorry if you're upset or something but I just.. I have to do this at my own pace._"

"I know you do, Spencer. It's fine, really."

"_Generally when people say 'it's fine', it's far from it._"

"Then it's fantastic."

"_Don't be a smartass._"

"Don't be difficult."

"_Don't be rude._"

"You called me a smartass, I had a right to retaliate."

She takes a breath to say something back, but I interrupt her.

"Enough of this, we're talking in circles. Let's just have phone sex instead."

I hear her laugh and it makes me grin.

"_Not in your wettest dreams_."

"I'm not talking about dreams, come on, humor me," I drop my voice an octave and practically purr through the phone, "What are you wearing and how would you like me to take it off of you?"

"_I am __**not**__ having phone sex with you with my parents just across the hall, Ashley Davies_."

"Then I'm hanging up on you and calling someone who _will_."

"_Good luck finding __**anyone**__ else who will put up with you_."

"As if they'd be so lucky."

She chuckles and says, "_I miss you_."

"Yeah, I guess I miss you, too."

"_Just guess, huh_?"

"If I say I've been on the verge of death since you left, will you come back?"

"_No, but I'll tell you I love you._"

"I've been on the verge of death since you left."

She laughs again, "_I love you._"

It's sort of sad how much just hearing that calms all my nerves. I swear I've never been this needy before.

"Yeah, I kinda like you, too."

We say our goodbyes and hang up, and I wonder just how the hell I'm going to make it through this weekend.

**SPENCER POV**

After I'd gotten off the phone with Ashley, and just gotten comfortable in bed, there's a knock at my bedroom door and my dad sticks his head in, "Can I come in for a minute?"

I nod and turn the lamp next to my bed on, sitting up and moving my feet out of his way so he can sit down.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Dad?"

He grins and I do, too. He's always been my favorite family member.

"Oh, nothing. I just came in to talk a bit more. I heard you on the phone and knew you were up, so.. here I am."

I smile and wait for him to continue, I know him well enough to know when he's not finished, and he's clearly not.

He looks at me like he's debating on something and it makes me laugh a little.

"If there's something you want to talk about, Dad, you know you can just go for it. And I'll consider being honest." I nudge his leg a bit to let him know I'm only joking.

He smiles and looks down at his hands.

"So who's Ashley?"

My hands fumble across the invisible patterns I was drawing across the sheets and my jaw nearly drops and I know I probably look like I'm doing a poor impersonation of a retarded fish.

"I don't... What?"

He looks back up at me and smiles, and I have to avert my eyes, suddenly finding the floor extraordinarily fascinating.

I feel his hand cover mine and squeeze gently.

"I'm just curious, honey. If it's something you don't want to talk about then I can understand. I'm not trying to push you, I just overheard you on the phone and I was wondering if it's someone I should know about."

I feel like I'm in the ultimate bind here. I don't want to deny what I have with Ashley because I know she deserves much more than that, but at the same time... Am I about to come out to my father? I mean, shouldn't this moment be a little more intense than a two-in-the-morning casual conversation? Shouldn't the rest of the family be here? Does it even work that way? I mean, I'd rather just do it just the one time with everyone gathered round instead of having forty million different conversations about it and having to go through the same nervous feeling every single time and-

"Spencer?"

He pulls me out of my internal debate and now I know that even if I _wanted_ to lie about anything, I wouldn't be able to. Simply due to the fact that I've sort of made it obvious with my silence and probably interesting facial expressions.

"She's, Ashley's... We're..." Are we dating? I mean do we count as girlfriends? We say 'I love you' but calling her my girlfriend just seems a little bland and Ashley's anything _but_ bland so I don't even know what we'd call it.

"You're in love."

It's far from a question and a little stronger than a statement, and it makes me smile.

"Am I that obvious?" I know I'm blushing more than I ever have before, and suddenly I'm _really_ wishing I would have let Ashley come with me.

He smiles softly and shakes his head a little.

"It's not really something you can hide, you know, even if you wanted to."

"In that case, yeah... Yeah I am. We are."

He squeezes my hand gently and I know what he's about to ask is going to be far from light.

"Is that why you and Aiden are divorcing? It's okay if it is, Spencer. But when you told your mother and I that it just 'wasn't working', you didn't exactly have a poker face on."

I smile a little at how well he knows me and shake my head.

"Yes, but no... I mean I guess... It wouldn't have worked out in the long run either way. Ashley just sort of... She was... Good timing, I guess. Or bad, depending on who you ask."

"Why didn't you tell us before?"

I laugh somewhat disbelievingly.

"Tell mom that I was divorcing Aiden for another woman? I kind of felt like that would have been a bit much, honestly. I mean I'm not worried that you guys wouldn't accept it or whatever, although I can't say it would matter either way, I just... I felt like... It seemed like too much news for just a weekend visit."

He chuckles and nods, "I can understand that."

"She wanted to come, you know."

I don't know why that came out, but it did and I'm blushing again.

"And why didn't she?"

"I felt a little uneasy about telling you I was divorcing Aiden _and_ showing up with my girlfriend."

He laughs again and I _really _wish she was here with me.

"You should bring her next time."

I grin, "Really?"

"Yeah.. and by next time I mean pretty soon."

"And by pretty soon you mean...?"

He squeezes my hand again.

"How about next weekend? And get Clay and Glen out here, too. And their better halves if they're up for it."

I groan.

"This isn't going to turn into some huge 'Spencer's coming out' party, is it? Cuz you know how overboard mom can go, and I _really_ don't want Ashley introduced to her when she's half drunk and making a banner like she did when she met my first boyfriend."

He laughs hard and says, "I make no promises."


	22. Climbing Up the Walls

**And this is the result a little rum, a ton of Johnny Cash and a couple boxes of marlboros. Oh, and a Cowboys win. **

**I set such a good example.**

* * *

**SPENCER POV**

"_Have you left __**yet**__? Because unless that's what you're calling to say, you have absolutely __**no**__ business harassing me this early,_" Ashley's voice grumbles sleepily across the phone, causing me to laugh and my heart to flip- just from the sound of her voice.

"No, I haven't left _yet_," I reply, pulling on an old pair of pants to drive back in and doing that weird manouever we all end up in when trying to get dressed and talk on the phone. You know, the one that makes you look like a penguin with unbearable hemorrhoids.

"_Then why am I being woken up so damn early?_" she groans, and I can hear the distant sound of her arm being thrown across her face.

"Because I missed you terribly."

She snorts.

"_Right._ _And why else?_"

"Well, I wanted to ask if you've burned down my house yet."

"_Yes, it's crumbling down around me as we speak- so I'm going to get off here now and go be all heroic and shit and try to stop the flames since I'm already awake at this god forsaken hour and-_"

"I don't understand why you're complaining. It's nine in the morning. It's not _that_ early. I could've called you when I woke up at six, you know."

"_Which would've been the end of our relationship, but alright._"

I laugh again.

"Do you want me to let you go? I really didn't call for anything, I just wanted to talk to you."

She sighs.

"_How am I supposed to be annoyed with you when you're being sweet? But no, I wouldn't want you to go anyway, and if you recall, I offered to do multiple sexual favors to __**keep**__ you from going and yet, here we are._"

"I'll cash in on them when I get back later, then."

"_Unless that's within about two minutes, I think not._"

I sit down on the bed and try pulling my socks on one hand, giving up the fight and flopping back down, grinning.

"I'll remember that. Don't you have to work today, anyway? So I'm not even going to get to see you when I get back," I pout playfully.

I hear her rustling as she rolls around in bed and I wish beyond belief that I was there with her.

"_I'll call in._"

"You will not."

"_Try me_."

I roll my eyes even though she can't see it.

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I have relatively good news."

"_I hate when people say that. It's either good news or it isn't. But, carry on. Spit it out._"

"You're so loving in the morning. But, I told my dad about you. Well, he sort of overheard and asked, but it's the same thing, I guess. Either way, he knows about you. Not really _about_ you, he doesn't know how annoying you are yet, but he knows that-"

"_Stop rambling, moron. How'd he.. ya know. Take it?_"

I roll over on my stomach and close my eyes.

"He threw holy water at me, called me an abomination, and asked if I wanted him to come find you and set you on fire."

She chuckles.

"_Liar._"

"Yeah, he was good with it. He wants you to come down like... next weekend."

She groans.

"What's that for? This is a _good_ thing."

"_I know, but I hate meeting parents. I get all nervous and my mouth has a mind of its own and I generally end up humiliating myself and looking like a total fucking retard._"

"That's nothing out of the ordinary. It's not a big deal, Ash. They're pretty laid back. Well, Dad is anyway. My mom is a highly functioning psychopath."

"_Like... Zodiac killer psychopath or...?_"

"Nothing that extensive. More like Kathy Bates in _Misery_."

"_Funny._"

I hear my name called from downstairs and roll over, covering the phone as I yell back. I hear something along the lines of "breakfast" "hurry" and "get off the damn phone."

Ah, the wonders of coming home.

I hear Ashley muttering on about something and don't catch a word of it, and opt out of asking her to repeat herself because then I'll end up in another thirty minute discussion about how I woke her up this early and I'm not even paying attention to her. She's just a _little_ predictable.

"Hey, I gotta go. Breakfast is waiting and you're _so_ not worth missing my dad's cooking over."

"_Well __**that**__ was highly uncalled for. But alright. Come see me when you get back, okay? I'll take my break and we can have a quickie in your car._"

"You're just so romantic."

**ASHLEY POV**

"Ashley, you've got a customer. But, by no means should you allow that to interrupt your fiftieth smoke break."

I roll my eyes and flick the butt in the general direction of the dumpster. I so need to quit this job. And Spencer _so_ needs to hurry up and ditch her parents.

Walking through the backdoor and break room, I grab my order book from the table and throw a warm smile on my face, making my way to the table and grabbing the dumbass customer's order.

It's Sunday so there was a bit of an after Church rush and I'm going insane. This had to be the longest weekend to ever exist, for god's sake.

My phone vibrated in my pocket just as I'd dropped off the coffee and small sandwiches that had been ordered and slipped back in the break room to check it. I knew it was Spencer, and I was _hoping_ she was responding the proper way to one of my dirty texts as opposed to her usual "**ur such a horn dog**."

I flipped it open and my breath caught a bit when I realized it was a picture message. _Now we're talking_.

Alas, as it finished downloading, I was mildly disappointed. It was just a picture of a clock and the text beneath read "**get ur head outta the gutter. im just lettin u kno i'll see u again in 4 hrs (wen the lil hand gets 2 the 5). xoxo**"

She drives me insane.

I tell her I love her and then slip my phone back in my pocket, dragging myself back to work amidst internal mumblings of annoyance, both at my job at the lack of a good naked Spencer message.

Life can be rough sometimes.

After umpteen coffee refills, more sandwich deliveries than I even care to count, and what feels like two blisters forming on my heel, I hear the bell on the door jingle and it's like I can _feel_ that it's her.

"Well, well, well."

I turn around from my perch at the corner and fail enormously at keeping the smile off my face. I quirk an eyebrow and look her up and down as she approaches me.

"Did you gain weight this weekend?"

She glares at me and smacks my arm.

"That's not _even_ funny, asshole."

I give her a brief hug as a customer beckons me over. Fat fucker.

"Meet me out back, ok?" I whisper in her ear, blushing a little when she kisses my cheek and nods.

I tend to my customers quickly and less than efficiently and practically sprint towards the backdoor, nearly having a coronary when I'm immediately shoved against the brick wall and borderline sexually violated.

Definitely not complaining.

I grin when she takes a breath from kissing me so she can breathe, her eyes still closed and her mouth still deliciously close to mine.

"Didja miss me?" I ask playfully, letting my hands find refuge on her waist and securing her tightly against me.

She nods vigorously, with her eyes still closed and I chuckle a little.

"So lift up your eyelids and give me your bedroom eyes."

Spencer opens her eyes and rolls them and I sigh happily.

"_That's_ what I'm talking about."

She blushes a little and pulls me closer, her head buried in my neck and I seriously underestimated just how much I was going to miss her.

"I missed the way you smell," comes a muffled voice and I chuckle.

"Thanks, I think. I missed the way you smell, too," I say, pressing my face against her ear and dramatically sniffing, causing her to giggle and cringe.

She pulls back and gives me a look that I can't quite describe, but it's one I'm pretty sure I'm in love with.

"So you ready to meet my parents?"

I press my forehead against hers and groan.

"I have all this week to worry about that. Don't remind me about it."

She threads both of our hands together and presses my arms gently against the wall behind us.

"It won't be that bad."

"I'll probably vomit on their doorstep."

"How... endearing."

I knee her thigh playfully and she smiles.

"It really won't be bad. Yeah, my mom's a little out there, but dad's sanity usually outshines her.. lack thereof."

"Wow, that's really what every girlfriend wants to hear."

She kisses my cheek and nuzzles her nose against mine.

"I'll be there, so you'll be just fine."

"I'll vomit on your shoes."

"I'll just consider it payback for when I tossed all over yours."

"While I appreciate your... odd effort, nothing you say is going to make me any less nervous about this. So obviously the best solution is to let me weasel out of it and sit at home consuming dangerous amounts of alcohol whilst watching _When Harry Ate Sally_ and-"

She groans, "Was it _at all_ necessary to ruin one of my favorite movies with it's pornographic spinoff?"

I bow my head in pretend shame and sniffle.

"You're right. I'm an awful person. As punishment, I should be forbidden to meet your parents, Spencer Carlin. I will spend the weekend thinking about what I said and I assure you, I will apologize when you make your return."

She rolls her eyes and pushes away from me and I can tell she's starting to get pissed off.

"You seriously don't want to meet them?"

"I _do_ just... not... right now."

"Why not?"

I sigh and throw my hands up.

"Spencer, regardless of what you may think, your parents are _not_ going to be okay with you just... bouncing back from Aiden like this, before your divorce has really even began, before _anything_ has even _started _to be sorted out-"

"It seems to me like _you _just feel guilty because we started... whatever this is while I was with Aiden."

"Oh come on, that's bullshit and you know it. I just don't want my first meeting with your parents to be like "oh, yeah, hey, I was fucking your daughter while she was married and-""

She laughs in that I-can't-believe-we're-doing-this way.

"That's not for you to fucking worry about, Ashley. It was _my_ marriage. I _wanted_ to end it. I _wasn't_ happy. If you never became a part of my life, I'm willing to bet _anything_ that somewhere along the line, I'd _still _be getting divorced so don't _even _give me that shit because you and I both know that-"

And of course this is when Marcus pulls the backdoor open and sticks his watermelon head through the crack.

"Ok, Ash, playtime is over, we're getting our asses kicked so _please _get the hell back in here."

"Marcus, just give me like-"

Spencer shakes her head.

"No, you know what, go. I'm going home. I'll talk to you later."

And with that, she stalks off around the building and I'm left with a massive sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach.

Marcus looks dumbstruck and I push past him.

"Look, Ash, I didn't mean to interrupt whatever that was, I'm really sorry."

I shake my head and throw a "don't worry about it" over my shoulder.

This is so not how this day was supposed to go.

* * *

**couldn't for the life of me really figure out what i wanted to do with this chapter, and i'm still not even sure, but it's there now so... cheerio.**


	23. I Had a Feeling that I Belonged

**So I'm doing a rewrite since I was in a bit of a angst mood when I wrote the other version of this... I realized it's way too deep for what I'd intended for this fic so maybe I'll use it for something else somewhere along the line. **

**Anyway, here's an update that's not really an update cuz I already updated but deleted that update and wrote a new update so I'm really just updating an update. **

**Cheerio. **

**Title comes from a Tracy Chapman song.**

* * *

"_Look, Spence. I know you're there. You know you're there. The whole fucking world knows you're there and just ignoring me. Just pick up the phone. You're seriously over reacting right now. Can we __**please**__ just talk this out like adults?" _there's a small pause and then an exasperated breath released across the line, "_You know what, I'm coming over. And I don't care if I have to break down the damn door or set a fire to coax you out, you __**will**_ _be seeing me._"

If I wasn't so damn annoyed with her right now, that last bit of the message might cause me to chuckle. But I'm still annoyed, no matter how immature it is, and I'm torn between wanting to see her and wanting to stab her.

I know it seems a little extreme, but I just feel like she's leaving me out there to deal with the consequences of our actions on my own. She doesn't want to meet my parents because, whether she'll admit it or not, she's frightened they won't care much for her given the gravity of the situation. Which I can totally and completely understand. But what _she_ doesn't understand is that I don't give the smallest damn what my parents think about any of it as long as she's with me. If they don't like it, that's not my problem. They'll just have to get over it. But Ashley doesn't want that. She wants to be accepted warmly and, again, I totally understand. But she should have thought of that before we allowed any of this to happen. I would have never been interested in just being a small fling with her, and there's no part of me that doesn't think she's fully aware of that. So eventually, somewhere down the line, this was going to come up. And I really don't understand why it never occurred to her before.

I know it might not make the most amount of sense why I'm so mad, but whatever. She's in the doghouse whether she likes it or not. Not that I particularly love her being in the doghouse, because believe it or not, it's damn near impossible to stay mad at her, but right now... My feelings really are hurt about all of this, whether that makes me over-dramatic or not. I just want her to meet my parents. I want them to see how happy I am. How happy we _both_ are. Plus, I know they'll love her. It's impossible not to. There's a part of me that just wants to show her off a little. Sue me.

My inner ramblings are interrupted with one hell of a loud noise outside, alarming me so much I nearly fall off the couch.

"SPENCER CARLIN," I hear in the unmistakable voice of Ashley, but it sounds magnified way beyond it's normal volume.

I peek out through the curtains to the front lawn and groan audibly.

Who in the name of _god _would sell _her_ a fucking _megaphone_?

She continues shrieking through it, and I'm really not even paying much attention to what she's saying anymore, more concerned with the neighbors and passerbys who are beginning to stare.

I unlock the front door with frantic fingers and thrust it open.

"**Ashley**," I hiss, my face burning now, "stop!"

Her face pulls up into a look of faux shock.

"So she _does_ live!" comes shrilly through the megaphone, and I cringe at how much louder it is outside.

She continues on, but once again I'm not listening, I'm making my way towards her now as her back is to me as she addresses the audience she's drawn, informing them of how I brought this on myself and she's sorry for the disturbance, etc.

A slight 'oomph!' escapes from her lips as I grab her round her torso in anything but a gentle manner, and bodily drag her through my yard. She doesn't struggle much, but she's still talking through her megaphone and it's splitting right through my head.

I stop once I get back to the steps and attempts to wrestle it out of her hands.

"So help me _god_ Ashley if you don't give me that _fucking _thing it's going to be sticking out of your fucking a-"

"Miss Carlin, is everything okay?," I didn't even notice the mailman standing on my porch. He's got an eyebrow raised and nice little mix of humor and intrigue across his features as I finally succeed in getting the megaphone from Ashley and toss it over the railing while she huffs at me, hair thrown madly around her head and breathing heavily after our struggle.

I blush even deeper and nod, walking past him and jerking Ashley along behind me by her arm, closing the door and turning slowly to face her, counting to ten slowly in my head as I do so.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you? Do you _even _know how long it's going to be before this neighborhood lets that go? Jesus christ, I'm surprised they didn't-"

"You haven't talked to me in going on four days," she interrupts me, paying no mind to my temper threatening to boil over momentarily.

"Yeah, and _clearly_ that was the wrong decision," I say sarcastically, brushing past her to head towards the living room, "You're just such a child."

A snort escapes her as she follows along behind me.

"_I'm _the child? _Really?_ We have one minor disagreement and you just disappear off the face of the Earth, Spencer. That doesn't exactly scream adult behavior."

"It sure as fuck beats showing up on your lawn with a god damn _megaphone_," I say, almost throwing myself on the couch, but then choosing to pace around instead.

She, however, sits on the couch just as calm as can be, crossing her legs and looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I practically growl at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"I was _hoping_ for an apology."

My jaw drops.

"Please tell me you're joking."

She shakes her head.

"You completely flip out over the smallest little thing, and then you go MIA for almost four days. Don't tell me you wouldn't be ready to kick my ass all over this county if I did that."

I cover my face with my hands and drag them down slowly, looking at her disbelievingly.

"I honestly don't even know what to say to you right now."

"'I'm sorry' would be an excellent start."

I open my mouth to reply, wanting to tell her exactly where she can stick that 'I'm sorry', when the phone rings.

I point to her and narrow my eyebrows.

"Do _not_ get off that couch."

She smirks at me and nods, sitting back and crossing her legs, looking all too at home. And it suddenly hits me just how much I miss her and I have to physically keep the smile from creeping up on my face.

I go to the kitchen and pick up the phone, fixing myself a glass of water while I'm at it.

"Hello?"

Aiden's voice comes across the line and it's strange how it comforts me. Not in a "I want to go back to how we were" kind of way. I just miss him sometimes. As much as he drove me nuts, he was still my husband and best friend for a long time. I can't just forget that, no matter how much I feel for Ashley. I still want to be on good terms with him.

I get that feeling that there's someone behind me, and turn around to see Ashley smiling sweetly at me, whispering that while she was more than willing to follow my command like an obedient animal, she had gotten thirsty. I roll my eyes while I try to resist the urge to kiss her and point to the fridge.

Aiden's voice pulls me away from the momentary space-out I'd just fallen into while checking out Ashley while her back was to me.

"Yeah, tomorrow at seven. I'll be there."

This causes Ashley to swivel around and raise an eyebrow at me.

Aiden says something else and I'm back to paying absolutely no attention to him as I see just how hot jealousy looks on Ashley. She doesn't look happy with me right now at all, and while it might be fun to push her buttons for a little while longer, I figure it's not such a good idea since we're already in the middle of one argument. I certainly don't want to add another. I tell Aiden I have to go and don't even wait for a reply, I just hang up and toss the phone back on the counter behind Ashley and move in closer to her, momentarily forgetting that I'm not happy with her.

"Hot date?" she asks in a bad attempt at nonchalance.

I put my arms around her waist and hers immediately snake around my neck, and now I'm _really_ feeling just how much I've missed her.

"Just Aiden."

She scrunches her eyebrows at me.

"Like _that's _supposed to make me feel better."

"We're just going out to dinner," I tell her, tugging her even tighter against me and pressing a kiss against her jaw.

"I like how we're having this conversation as you try to distract me with your hotness and everything. It only makes me more suspicious."

"Get over it. I shouldn't even be kissing you seeing as how I'd still quite like to break your nose."

She ignores this and tucks her face into my neck, breathing deeply.

"I really, _really_ miss you," she says, her lips bumping against my skin as she moves them.

"Ditto," I sigh, "But we still need to talk about this."

"I've already done my talking."

"Ok, one-sided conversations don't count. Plus I could hardly make out a word you were saying over that stupid megaphone."

I feel more than I hear her chuckling.

"Too much?" she mumbles against my neck.

"Uh, _yeah_," I say, reaching my hands down to grab her ass and hoist her up on the counter.

"You know," she says, getting comfortable and grinning with her eyes as she looks at me, "we could always take it to bed with us. It'd be kinda hot knowing that people could hear you screaming my name three towns over."

I smile and shake my head. I don't think she has any idea how easy it is to love her sometimes.

Reason number 430495034950345 she should be meeting my parents. They'd probably love her more than me.

I press my forehead against hers and close my eyes, not really wanting to bring this up again but I kind of have to.

"So I need to know what I'm telling my dad about this weekend. If we're going or not. And before you even say anything, we don't even have to tell my mom if you don't want to, okay? I'll just say you're my friend. Dad knows already, but he won't say anything if I ask him not to. I just really want you to come, Ash. You have no idea what it would mean to me, and to them."

"Spence..." she sighs, and I'm trying to think of anything I can do to convince her to go.

"Ash, I don't want to fight about this. I really, truly don't. But you need to know that I don't care what my parents think about this. I really don't."

She pulls away from me and smiles sadly at me.

"You will, though. You say you won't, but they're your parents. Of course you care."

I shake my head firmly.

"No, I don't. I'm happy. If they can see that I'm happy and yet feel opposed to it, I absolutely don't give the smallest shit what they say."

"That's what you say now."

I groan.

"Okay, fine. Say I do care. What does that change? I'd still want you to meet them so I can get approval. And I can't get approval _or_ disapproval if we never try."

She rolls her eyes and pushes her forehead against my collar bone.

"Is it really that important to you?" she says, somewhat defeated.

I grin because I know by the tone of her voice she's going to agree to go.

"It really is."

She sits back up and tilts her neck up, closing her eyes and facing the ceiling.

"You have to promise me that you'll intervene if your mom tries to choke the life out of me with an apron or something."

I grin, even though she's not looking at me.

"I will."

"And I will _not_ tolerate one of those 'what are your intentions with my daughter' speeches."

My grin gets wider.

"Of course not."

"And if they make a big deal about when we got together, you make sure that they know that you _totally _came on to me."

"Abso- Wait, that is _so_ not how it happened!"

She finally opens her eyes and looks down at me.

"That's the story and you're sticking to it."


	24. Can You Feel My Eyes on You?

**title comes from a sonata arctica song**

**thanks for reviews and support and all those other things you guys do. you guys are just swell.**

* * *

**ASHLEY POV**

"Marcus?" I poke my head through his office door after knocking.

He grunts an acknowledgement from his desk. I take this as an invitation to shuffle in and perch on the edge of the chair in front of him.

"I was wondering if I could take this weekend off."

He carries on as if he hasn't heard me, filling out paperwork and crunching numbers into a calculator. I'm about to repeat myself till he finally replies.

"For what?"

"Does it matter?"

"To your boss, yes."

I roll my eyes and groan.

"Come on, Marcus. I hardly ever ask for time off."

He sits back in his chair and raises an eyebrow at me.

"Time off from _what _exactly? Cigarette breaks or make out breaks?"

I blush slightly and avert my gaze from his eyes.

"Can I just get a yes or no, Marcus?"

He chuckles.

"Honestly, Ashley, would it even matter if I said no?"

I look back up to him and smirk a little.

"Probably not."

He nods appreciatively and folds his hands together under his chin. He suddenly looks like a therapist and I inwardly groan at where I know this is going.

"You can have it off."

"Thanks," I say quickly, trying to make it to the door before-

"Sit down for a minute. I think we need to talk."

I grind my teeth together and practically stomp back over to the chair.

"About?"

He purses his lips in mock thought and I'm pretty astonished at the amount of self control I realize I have when I don't reach over and knock his teeth down his throat. I'm rather proud of myself.

"I just want to know how you're doing, that's all."

"If you're making some weird attempt at trying to crack into the secret's of a lesbians sex life, I am _so_ not about to fuel your fantasy, Marcus."

He rolls his eyes.

"No, _darling_, I'm just making sure everything's alright. I just noticed you hadn't taken any days off for-"

"Because I don't need to."

He gives me a soft look.

"You don't have to need to in order to want to."

"Then it's a good thing I don't want to, either."

He opens his mouth and I hold up my hand.

"Marcus, seriously, just drop it. All I wanted was to know if I can have the weekend off. I can, yes?" He nods and I stand and head for the door.

As I'm opening it, he finally says, "Spencer doesn't know, does she?"

Without turning around, I shake my head and pull the door shut behind me.

**SPENCER POV**

I can't stand the factory installed ringtones on phones. I seriously can't. So when my phone goes all fucking psycho and reverts back to such nonsense, it consequently manages to annoy the hell out of me. Thus my angry "What?" spat through the receiver once bells began chiming alerting me that my father was calling.

I heard him chuckle lightly and felt my face grow warm.

"Sorry dad, what's up?"

"_Oh, nothing, just making dinner. I was calling to make sure you and Ashley are coming over this weekend, so that I can inform your mom._"

I keep forgetting that I have to include my mom in all of this. Ugh.

"You haven't told her anything, have you?"

"_You mean in regards to a guest joining you, or the relationship you're involved in with said guest?_"

"The latter."

He chuckles again, "_No, it's not my business to tell, honey._"

I sigh in relief. I just think it would be awkward if it was my dad that threw me out of the closet.

"_And, just so you know, you don't have to tell her, Spence, if you're scared of her reaction. I can keep a secret. If you aren't ready, don't rush it, okay?_"

I grin.

"No offense, Dad, but regardless of you two felt about it, it wouldn't change anything."

"_That's my girl._"

I get up from the kitchen table where I'd been surfing around on the internet for a job and make my way into the living room, flopping down on the couch.

"Just out of curiosity, how **do** you think she'll take it?"

I hear him clattering around in the kitchen for a moment before he answers.

"_You know, honey, I really don't know. If she stays true to the form of the woman I've known all these years, she won't care as long as you're happy. But, then again, it's hard to predict these things. But no matter what, I'm on your side, kiddo._"

That calms my nerves a little. Not that I'm extraordinarily nervous, but it _would_ be nice to have both parents supportive of my relationship with Ashley. I'm actually more nervous she'll do something extremely _Paula-like_ of her and embarrass the hell out of me. It's like her own little unintentional tradition. It might actually be intentional. It's hard to believe she could be that humiliating on accident.

"I really appreciate it, Dad."

"_Hey, after all this time, I'd like to think I've got this parenting thing down pretty well. Anyway, I have to run, honey. I was just checking to make sure I'd be seeing you._"

We say our goodbyes and I hang up, feeling pretty at peace.

My phone beeps, that universal sign of a text message, and I notice it's from Ashley. Which, naturally, brings a smile to my face before I even open it.

"**thnkn of you...r rack xoxo**"

How sad is it that it makes me love her that much more?

I reply with the definitely appropriate '**perv**' and lay back on the couch with the intentions to shut my eyes for a bit and get a small nap in.

And, of course, as with all intended-to-be-short-naps, I woke up 3 hours later with a stiff back, sore neck, and something licking my foot.

I was still in that almost-asleep-but-not-quite-so-feeling-drunk phase, and I kicked my foot to get rid of whatever the hell was going on down there and heard a yelp.

"_Dexter_! I _told_ you to _stop_!"

Ashley's voice comes from my kitchen and I open my eyes blearily, suddenly getting a face full of hair and the licking that was previously happening to my foot is now happening to my face.

"What the..."

"I'm sorry, Spence, I promised a friend I'd dog sit for tonight so she could go do... whatever she's doing and I called you like a billion times to see if you would mind if I brought him over, but you never answered, which, by the way, isn't very nice because for all you knew, I could have been lying in a ditch somewhere on the verge of death, but anyway, I brought him along anyway because I hadn't heard from you in a while and I wanted to make sure you know _you_ weren't dying in a ditch somewhere and I _asked _him repeatedly to stop licking you while you were asleep, but as you can see, he doesn't really-"

I shake my head, still trying to wake up.

"I... what?"

She kneels down beside me, brushing my hair out of my face and pressing her lips against my forehead.

"Nothing, sleepyhead."

I sit up groggily and finally focus in on the little ball of fur trying to set up camp in my lap.

"And who is this?" I say, running my hands through the dog's fur.

"Dexter. He's some kind of... I don't know, he's a dog, does the breed matter? He's a total asshole, if you want the truth. Nearly took my hand off when I tried to pull him away from you while you were asleep."

I grin sleepily, leaning over to kiss her properly.

"I made dinner while you were being lazy, if you want some," she says against my lips.

"Not hungry for food," I wink suggestively.

"Are you always this horny when you've first woken up?"

"Yes, so, let's remedy that situation."

She pulls back crinkling her eyebrows.

"Uh, no."

"Why the hell not?"

"Spence, we can't do... _that_ in front of _him_," she replies, gesturing with her chin towards the dog.

I look at her incredulously.

"You're kidding, right?"

"He's not even a year old! He's too young to see stuff like that."

"It's a _dog_ not a _child_."

"Dogs have eyes."

"They also lick their balls and rub their ass across the floor."

She makes a disgusted face.

"Look, I don't like watching dogs have sex, so I assume they aren't too fond of watching people have sex, either."

"We'll lock him in the kitchen."

"He chews on and eats everything."

"So do you."

"He's not potty trained."

"Neither was I at his age."

"Spencerrrr," she whines.

I roll my eyes dramatically and sit back on the couch, pulling her up from her knees and into my lap as I go. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me again. I _attempt_ to sneak my hand up her shirt before it's batted away.

"No, Spencer."

"You're really bruising my pride with all this rejection."

She grins cheekily.

"Am I really _that_ irresistible?"

"No, I'm just _that_ horny."

She tries to give me an indignant look and fails miserably.

"Ashleyyy," I whine in the same way she was, "I'm going to combust if I don't let all of this energy out."

"Go for a run."

"I'd rather go for a fu-"

She covers my mouth with her hand.

"_Not_ in front of Dexter."

"For god's sake!"

She smirks at me.

"It's just tonight. We can have sex all day long tomorrow. And then we can make sweet, sweet love in your childhood bedroom all weekend long."

"You won't have sex with me with a dog in the house, but you will with my parents down the hall?"

She grins evilly.

"I have to prove to your parents just," she kisses my neck, "how" nibble to my earlobe, "_ecstatic_" strategically placed hand in nether regions, "I can make their daughter," she finishes with a soft kiss on my lips.

I groan.

"I hate you right now."

* * *

**I know it's not much of anything, but not much of anything is better than none of anything, right?**


	25. Don't Tempt Me

**so i had this written out for awhile, but i couldn't find it on my computer. for whatever reason, i saved it with the file name being 'facking england' so i never thought to open that particular file to find this chapter.**

**i don't really know what to think of myself sometimes.**

**anyway, thanks for reviews, and stuff. i'm not ungrateful. i'm the opposite of ungrateful. i'm grateful.**

**SPENCER POV**

**"**Ashley!" I yelled through the house, still throwing stuff in my bag as I walked along, "If you don't hurry the hell up, we're going to be late, and that's _so_ not the impression you want to make on mom!"

I hear a muffled reply coming somewhere from the direction of the bedroom, so I start making my way towards it.

Walking through the doorway, I find Ashley face down on my bed, head under a pillow and legs and arms spread out as far as she apparently good get them. It's quite cute, truthfully. Too bad I have to end it.

I crawl my way up her body and lay down, kissing her neck and lifting the pillow up to stick mine under it as well.

"What the hell are you doing exactly?"

She grumbles out something that I can't even almost decipher.

"Once again, your majesty?"

She turns her head to the side and says, "I was _trying_ to take a nap before you laid your big ass on top of me."

"Is that a fat joke?"

I swear I can _hear_ her smirk.

"It's certainly not a skinny joke."

I reach my arm down and pinch her side.

"Ow! I was joking, for christ's sake!"

I chuckle into the back of her hair before rolling off and cuddling into her side.

"You're supposed to be helping me pack."

"Spencer, we're going to your parents house for a week. You don't need to 'pack.' You need to 'stuff clothes in a bag.'"

She rolls her head over to face me and kisses my cheek.

"I'd rather pack too much than not enough. Sue me for thinking ahead."

"I'm sorry- _is_ there a huge possibility that we'll be holed up in the storm cellar for months on end?"

I roll my eyes, "For your sake I hope not. Because I'm making you sleep outside."

She chuckles and rolls over on her side, burying her head in the crook of my neck.

"Can we nap now?"

I groan and sit up.

"We don't have time. We need to leave here in about a half hour if we're going to make it on time."

Ashley pulls me back down and resumes her position.

"It takes like two minutes to get from here to the car. So, if my subtraction is correct, we're left with about twenty eight minutes to snooze happily."

As appealing as that sounds, I know we can't, so I roll out of bed, and tug her along with me, chuckling lightly at her over dramatic grumbles.

"I either sleep now or the entire way there and leave you with nobody to talk to. Your choice, babe."

I pull her hips against mine and kiss her sweetly.

"I'll just dispense the airbag if it looks like you're dozing off."

**ASHLEY POV**

You ever have that feeling that your whole life is a continuous ticking time bomb? Like you've been dealing with all of this crap behind closed doors, and it's just a matter of time before it all explodes in your face? Yeah. That's my life. And you'd think, wouldn't you, that I'd wise up after the first few times I find myself up shit creek with out a paddle _or_ a boat, but no. I never learn my lesson.

Thus, when my phone rings, a name flashing across the screen that I don't want to deal with, but have to, as I'm _in_ the car with Spencer, I find myself internally beating the total shit out of myself. They say god has a sense of humor. I say he's just a sadistic old fuck.

I answer my phone nonchalantly, trying to give Spencer no reason to be suspicious. It's one of those situation where you overplay the nonchalance and it becomes _incredibly_... chalant? Whatever.

The person on the other end of the line babbles continuously, and I'm only paying half attention.

"Yeah... yeah, I know. - I will. - Ok. - I _will_. Bye."

I flip my phone shut and go back to staring out the window, relacing my hand with Spencer's across the gearshift.

"Who was that? You seemed rather short with them," she chuckles, "Not that you're not usually short with everyone, but anyway."

"Nobody, really. Just, ya know..." I use my free hand to gesture vaguely, "People."

"People?"

"People."

She nods and smiles slightly before furrowing her eyebrows.

"Like... _mob _people?"

I roll my eyes.

"Do I _look_ like a gangster?"

"It's called undercover."

"It's called mentally retarded."

"It's called sticking my foot up your ass if you don't start being nicer."

I laugh and lift her hand to my mouth, kissing the back of her hand.

"You're cute when you think you're scary."

She smacks me lightly and glares at me before turning her eyes back to the road.

"Seriously, though, everything okay? That didn't exactly sound like a pleasant conversation."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"It's cool, really. Just taking care of stuff that I stupidly procrastinated."

She looks at me, raising her eyebrows.

"You seriously sound like you're using thug code words."

"I've never met a thug who knew the definition of 'procrastinated.'"

"So you admit you know thugs?"

"Spence, if it'll appease you, we'll pretend for now that yes, I know thugs and yes, I am involved in the mob. Damn. My identity has been compromised."

She spills out a triumphant "Ah ha!" and I suddenly realize that I'm dating a real nerd and smile inwardly.

"So how much further away are we?"

She scrunches her eyebrows and tries to read the next interstate sign.

"Like... about another hour?"

"Is this a real world hour, or like the time you said "I'll be over in an hour" and it was like... a week later that you finally showed up?"

"You exaggerate a lot."

"Backatcha, babe," I say sweetly, leaning in swiftly to kiss her cheek before reclining my seat and propping my feet on the dashboard.

I let out a content sigh and snuggle up in seat, closing my eyes and preparing for what I believe will be a life changing nap.

I hear a throat clearing and open my eyes, taking note of the incredulous look Spencer is giving me.

"What?"

"What are _you_ doing?"

"I'm _about_ to be doing _sleeping_."

"Uh, I don't think so."

"Uh, I never rely on you to be thinking, so it's okay."

She slaps my thigh.

"You aren't allowed to go to sleep."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you have to keep me company!"

"My body will still be here. You'll still have company."

"I'm going to ram the passenger side of this car into a telephone pole if you close your eyes again."

I laugh at her and she gives me her best "i'm serious" face.

"I'm terrified."

"As you should be. Now come on, let's play like... a road game or something," she says, childishly excited and I grin again.

"Road games? Are we eleven?"

"A lesson on maturity, from _you? _Really?"

I pinch her side lightly, but sit my seat back up to it's proper location.

"Can we skip the road games? And I'll be all super-hot-girlfriend and go down on you while you're driving."

She blushes slightly before rolling her eyes.

"I don't think it really works properly with two women."

I wink at her and smirk.

"Only one way to find out, yeah?"

I playfully trail my fingers across her thigh, enjoying how much she squirms.

"Ash, seriously, stop."

Because I listen so well, right? Instead I lift up the folded seat between us and scoot over, nibbling gently on her ear, seriously a bit turned on at the way she shivers. She's way too easy.

"Ashleyyy," she wines.

"Spencerrrrr," I say, voice down a few octaves.

"You're going to make me wreck."

"I'll take the wheel."

She scoffs.

"Because _that_ comforts me, of course. You drive like a maniac."

I kiss her neck and grin when she slaps me.

"Lucky for you I do _many _things like a maniac."

She reaches into the compartment against the door and looks down briefly to get whatever she's looking for. She shakes a little bottle around meaningfully.

"I swear I'm going to mace you if you don't get back in your seat."

"Oh, you so would not."

"Try me."

Is it sad that I _do _believe my own girlfriend would mace me?

I groan and slide back over, pouting playfully.

"You suck all the fun out of my life."

"The beauty of relationships, eh?"

I stick my tongue out at her as my phone starts ringing and I answer it without checking the caller i.d.

"Yeah?," I say absentmindedly, smiling at the invisible patterns Spencer is tracing across my palm with her fingers.

"_Is this Ashley Davies?_," comes the reply, some snotty sounding guy breathing heavily through the line.

"Uh, if you called Ashley Davies' number, then yes, one would presume that Ashley Davies is the one answering. Who is this?" I catch Spencer's eye and note that she's laughing silently, and I raise her hand back up to my mouth, kissing gently.

"_This is Frank Morlo, calling on behalf of Ms. Evelyn Thompson, regarding setting up a date for the custody hearing of Trent Davies-Thompson. Will you be available on the twenty-second of-_"

"I.. I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," I reply, before shutting my phone and turning it off.

Spencer looks at me quizzically.

"Who was that?"

"Just.. Telemarketers."

She nods and points out the next interstate sign coming up.

"We'll be there in fifteen minutes. I can't wait for you to meet my parents," she looks at me briefly, squeezing my hand and smiling.

"Yeah.. me either," I say quietly, squeezing her hand back and averting my gaze back to my window.

* * *

**i plan on updating more consistently than i usually do.**

**but you should be warned that most thing i 'plan to do' usually end up, what's the saying for it? oh, right. 'not getting done.'**


	26. I'm a Bloody Big Mess Inside

**are you guys like extraordinarily offended that i don't do personalized feedback to your reviews? i've noticed most other authors do it, but i didn't know if it was expected and if you guys are all like... giving me the finger in your minds or something.**

**chapter title comes from a scouting for girls song  
**

**but anyway, onward, soldiers:**

* * *

**SPENCER POV**

"I'm going to be sick."

"You're being dramatic."

Ashley puts her head in her hands and rocks back and forth, and I laugh.

"Seriously, Spencer, I'm going to projectile vomit. It's going to be The Exorcist worthy."

"Uh, one- that's fucking disgusting. And two- you are not. It's just my parents. It's two people. Two ordinary people... with criminal backgrounds and anger management issues."

She looks over at me and I almost die laughing at the horrified expression on her face.

"I'm _kidding_, Ashley. Jesus christ. Lighten up."

I, _finally_, turn down the street that I was raised on and almost do that annoying 'squee' sound in excitement. Not so much at being home, but being home with Ashley, who is still hyperventilating next to me, but whatever.

I reach across the seat between us and pry my fingers between her clenched ones, falling for her all over again when she looks at me and offers the single most pitiful smile I've ever seen.

"Really, Ash. My parents are really cool. And we don't have to come right out and tell mom the situation; we can wait till whenever you're okay with it, alright?"

She nods, her fingers clenching against mine almost painfully for a split second before finally relaxing.

"We need a safe word."

I bark out a laugh and quirk an eyebrow at her.

"A safe word?"

She gives me a look that has "_**duh**_" written all over it.

"Uh, yeah, so that if one us like... thinks we're caving to the Carlin Inquisition, we can just say the word loud enough for the other to hear, and run like hell."

"If running like hell is the only plan following the safe word, then we might as well just scream 'run like hell' and then proceed to... well, run like hell."

She glowers at me.

"Don't look at me like that, besides, it doesn't matter, we're here!" I throw out a bit over excitedly, throwing the car in park and grinning broadly at how fast her expression changes.

Mom and Dad are already sitting on the porch swing waiting for us, and I yell a greeting out of the passenger side window as I roll it down and Ashley offers a pretty mortified smile. As I'm opening my door and making to get out of the car, I'm jerked back in quickly and forcefully as Ashley hisses quickly and quietly, "Penelope. The safe word is is _Penelope_," before letting me go and nervously exiting through her own door.

I manage to throw out a whispered, "You're an idiot" before she gets it shut and she subtly gives me the finger behind her back.

Dad's already on his way down the porch steps, mom (of course) hot on his heels and I quickly make my way around the front of the car to stand next to Ashley, putting my hand on the small of her back in an attempt to comfort her. She's fidgeting her feet in the gravel of the driveway and her eyes are darting all around; it's quite cute, truthfully.

I lean in close and whisper, "If you don't stop fidgeting, they're going to think you're a cocaine addict in need of a fix," and successfully dodge the elbow she was about to drive into my gut.

Dad comes up first, face breaking out into a warm smile as he kisses my cheek and extends his hand to Ashley.

"Arthur Carlin. At your service."

Ashley grins weakly and manages to repeat her own name after her second attempt. I swear it's like I'm taking Rain Man home to meet the folks.

Dad just laughs genuinely and pulls her into a hug, whispering something in her ear that causes her to visibly relax.

"For god's sake, Arthur. You're smothering the poor girl," mom finally butts in, offering a sympathetic smile to Ashley and introducing herself.

"Paula Carlin," she shoots a look at dad before saying, "The mentally stable one."

Ashley chuckles politely and allows mom to usher her in the house while I stay back and help dad bring our bags in. He catches my eye as we make our way up the steps and smiles at me.

"She's a pretty one, kiddo."

I blush a little and smile back.

"Trust me, dad. I know."

**ASHLEY POV**

"So, Ashley," Paula asks me as we sit down in on the couch, waiting for Spencer and Arthur, "How do you and Spencer know one another?"

God dammit.

"Uh, same old story, you know? Strangers are friends you've never met, or however it-" she nods understandingly and stands up, heading out of the room.

"Would you like a class of wine?" she calls behind her.

ALCOHOL. YES.

"Um, yes, please," I say, taking a moment to really look around my surroundings.

It's a cozy little house, not really big, but it has that really relaxed air about it. I can't explain it, but I can tell just sitting here that Spencer had a great childhood.

There's pictures covering most of the walls, and I stand up to get a closer look at them. They range from old photos of what must be grandparents and great grandparents, on to Spencer and her family when she was little to one that must just be from a couple years ago. No use denying it, she was a cute ass little kid.

Just as I'm really getting into it, hands snake around my waist and a kiss is placed againt the back of my neck.

"If this isn't Spencer then I'm leaving."

She laughs and moves to stand next to me, careful to leave a bit of distance between us until we talk to her mom, who's walking back in now with a couple glasses of wine in her hands.

She hands mine to me and points at a picture on the wall, one of a young, gap toothed Spencer making one hell of a face.

"_That_ was when she lost her first tooth. Glen knocked it out of her mouth and then told her she was broken and we'd be returning her to the store we bought her at."

I laugh hard and look at Spencer, who's blushing a little.

"In my defense, I was only seven."

She smacks me when I open my mouth to retort and I smirk at her, enjoying her slight embarrassment. Paula's pointing out another humilating picture of Spencer when Arthur walks in, and I can tell by Spencer's face she's relieved.

He smiles warmly and I reflexively throw him one back. It's impossible not to smile at him, even if I don't know much of anything about him.

"Enjoying yourself, Ashley?" he asks, looking on with amusement at the line of photographs Paula is still pointing out, not even aware that I'm not paying a bit of attention. Really making a great first impression, aren't I?

"She gets to see pictures of my childhood and I'm covered in some sort of bodily fluid in the majority of them. It's her version of paradise, Dad," Spencer speaks up for me, shooting a playful angry look my way.

"Seriously, Mr. Carlin, I'm getting ammunition for the next like, 30 years or so," I wink at him, and he chuckles a bit. I really like this guy, honestly.

"So I reckon you're sticking around for a bit then?," he asks, a knowing smile playing across his face and I feel a huge grin creep across my face involuntarily.

"I reckon so, sir."

Paula interrupts us then, stepping away from her monologue on the life of Spencer Carlin.

"Enough with that 'sir' and 'Mr. Carlin.' You're going to swell his head," she says to me, playfully swatting at his head as she makes her way by him to sit down on the couch. She gestures to the loveseat sitting diagonal to the couch, "Go on, sit down and tell us about yourself, Ashley."

I smile nervously at her and plop down on the loveseat, joined a few seconds later by Spencer who squeezes my hand comfortingly.

There's that inevitable awkward moment of silence before, "So where are you from, Ashley?" Arthur asks me, his warm and friendly eyes putting me at ease.

"Well, a lot of places," I chuckle nervously, "I was born in Manhattan, then we moved to L.A, then we were out on the road for a long while when my dad toured, and.. here I am. Well, I guess _there _I am. Cuz I don't live like... _here_. But... Yeah.." I trail off, mentally cursing myself.

I can see Spencer trying to contain her laughter out of the corner of my eye. It takes a lot of will power to not reach over and break her nose. I hate meeting parents.

Paula's looking at me with a bemused expression and Arthur looks a lot like Spencer- wanting to burst out laughing, but trying to save me the embarrassment. I want to go home.

"Dad, Mom," Spencer finally says, standing up and tugging me along with her, "As _truly_ riveting as this conversation is, I'm gonna show Ashley around, kay?"

I hardly even have the chance to excuse myself from them before I'm being yanked up the stairs.

"_Spencer_," I hissed, trying to break my arm free and she looks over her shoulder at me awaiting my response as she continues trudging forward.

"That was _rude_."

She grins cheekily, "Oh, well. Besides-" she throws open the door we're now standing in front of, "I had to show you where you'd be sleeping, didn't I?"

I roll my eyes at her before stepping around her and into the room and nearly choke on my own tongue.

"_Jesus_, Spence, you knew there were more colors than pink out there when you decorated, right?"

She slaps my ass playfully and I hear the door click shut behind me as her arms snake around my waist and she pulls me into her.

"Kiss me," she says in my ear, nibbling the lobe gently before turning me around in her arms.

I slip my arms around her neck and make a disgusted face.

"Brush your teeth first."

"Suck my ass first."

I scrunch my nose.

"There's a _lot_ of things I'd like to do to you, Spence, but sucking your ass isn't really on that list."

She ignores me and instead pulls me even tighter against her.

"I _said _kiss me, Ashley Davies."

"Apologize for all of your rude behavior this evening."

She raises an eyebrow at me.

"Dream on, honey bun."

Just then my cell starts ringing and she pulls it out of my back pocket, grinning evilly whilst checking the caller i.d. She looks at me quizically and laughs.

"What the hell kind of name is Evelyn? Are you picking up fifty year olds in bars now?" she says, still chuckling as she goes to answer it. And I feel my heart drop.

"Hello?"

Something unintelligible comes across the line and Spencer makes a face at me.

"Ashley isn't here right now, sorry," she grins and then rolls her eyes.

"No, lady, I _don't_ know where she is but I suggest you start being a little bit nicer when you speak about her."

"Spence," I whisper, "Just hang up, seriously."

She shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at me, but I can tell she's getting pissed with whatever Evelyn is saying.

"Okay, hotshot, how about _you_ go to hell and never call this phone again, yeah?"

I'm holding my breath at this point, having sat down on the bed just waiting for the moment it all blows up.

"What? What the hell are you talking about? What the fuck are you going to call your lawyer-"

Spencer scrunches her eyebrows.

"Look, bitch, I don't _know_ who the hell this Trent is. Nor do I give the smallest fuck, okay? Jesus christ, get some fucking manners."

I hear the phone click shut and my stomach has dropped through the floor at this point, and I seriously feel like I'm going to vomit.

"Man alive, Ash. Who the hell _was_ that?"

I can't answer her, my throat still constricting just _dreading_ how much I'm going to pay for that bit of phone etiquette Spencer just demonstrated. I can feel the tears running down my cheeks before I even register the fact that I'm crying, and suddenly Spencer is on her knees in front of me.

"Ashley, baby," she whispers, pushing my hair back and holding my face in her hands, "What is it? Who was that?"

I shake my head again, sniffling loudly and trying to dry the tears before her parents come looking for us or something.

"It's nothing, Spencer. It's not."

She kisses my forehead gently.

"You wouldn't be this distraught if it was nothing," she gives me a playful look, "Evelyn isn't your mistress is she?"

I give a small laugh and shake my head, "No, Spence. Not hardly."

She smiles at me sadly and pulls me up off the bed and gently against her.

"When you're ready to tell me, you will, right?" she whispers in my ear, hands rubbing soothing circles around my back.

I nod against her chest and she pulls back from me and leans in, kissing me softer than she ever has before.

"I trust you, Ashley. And if you ever shed another tear over whatever bullshit that woman is spouting, I'll kick her ass. I promise."

I don't have the heart to tell her how very doubtful I am of her fighting skills. I smile at her and nod and she kisses me again.

"Come on, let's go fill up the entire downstairs with sexual tension, yeah?"

I nod and follow behind her, still trying to figure out how the hell I can ever tell her.

* * *

**i know it's not a whole lot. **

**but a little is better than nothing, si? i just want to try to move this at a natural pace and not have shit going down every 2 paragraphs.**

**review and throw in any and all criticisms, thanks!**


	27. You've Got Twistability

**I dunno about this one. Seems a bit pointless, but it's something.**

**chapter title comes from a sonic youth song  
**

* * *

**SPENCER POV**

".. and then, if you believe it, here comes Spencer, naked as the day she was born-"

"Dad, if you finish that story, so help me God-"

"- climbs _on_, not _in_ but _**on**_, the bus as it's picking up Glen for his first day of second grade."

I shoot him a dirty look as Ashley's shoulders quake from laughter.

"He's lying."

He roars with laughter, "We have it on _video_, Spencer."

"It's photoshopped."

I see mom smack his shoulder lightly and look at him reproachfully.

"Arthur, you're embarrassing her."

Finally, someone defends me. Ashley's still has tears pouring down her face from laughter. I've never in all my life heard so many humiliating stories regurgitated back over such a short period of time.

Dad starts laughing again and turns his attention back to Ashley.

"You won't believe the amount of public nudity Spencer graced upon the world as a child."

Ashley grins at me from across the table and crinkles her nose.

"I _so_ have to see these videos."

I scratch my chin with only my middle finger, looking pointedly at her, and she starts giggling again. If I didn't love her so much, I'd hate her a little.

"Can we like, oh I don't know, talk about _anything _else?"

Dad apologizes (but does it count when he's still laughing as he says 'sorry'?) and Ashley just sticks her tongue out at me.

There's a small awkward silence before mom speaks up.

"So, Ashley, are you married?"

She nearly chokes on the drink of wine she was taking and her face turns beet red.

"Um, no, no I'm not-"

"Divorced?"

"I.." she clears her throat and shoots me a panicked glance.

"Mom," I interrupt (both to save Ashley's ass and to avoid her being pissed at me later for not stepping in), "Can you pass the potatoes?"

Ashley smiles weakly at me while mom gives me a "Sure, sweetie" and I rack my brain for something, _anything_ to bring up before finally spitting out, "So tell them about your job, Ash!" much too enthusiastically.

Her fork clatters to her plate as she glares at me with a _whatthefuck_ face.

Mom perks up interestedly as does dad. So much for saving _my_ ass by stepping in. I believe I've just entered the dog house.

"Oh, you're employed?"

Ashley nods meekly and aims a pretty dead on kick at me under the table, "Yeah, but it's nothing, _really_. Just some part time stuff to pass the time."

Mom acts as though she heard none of that (truthfully, she probably didn't. her selective hearing might as well be a bona fide disease).

"Sure, sure. We've been telling Spencer for _ages_ how she needs to find work, support herself, you know?," she chuckles merrily and takes another sip of wine, "Now that Aiden won't be doing it anymore..."

I drop my cutlery and put my face in my hands dramatically and I hear Ashley snicker.

"Oh, come on, Spencer. It's true, how are you going to pay your bills?"

"Alimony," is my muffled response.

"Be serious, Spencer."

"Robbery."

Dad laughs appreciatively and mom tsks at me before turning back to Ashley.

"Maybe you could get her a job where you work, Ashley?"

She blushes a deep red and nods, "Maybe."

"What exactly is it you do, anyway? Some sort of big time business, I'll say, eh?" mom grins at her.

I have to look up at this, feeling kind of bad that I enjoy watching Ashley squirm the way she is in her seat.

"Um... no, not exactly..."

"Paula, could you hand me the salt?," Dad interrupts, sensing Ashley's discomfort.

She practically hurls it at him before facing Ashley again.

"Oh, don't be modest. You see," she prattles on, gesturing with her wine glass, "I always wanted to get involved in something like that. Seemed a bit exciting, but of course you know that. Hollywood upplays it so much on the big screen. I think I could at least be cut out for a secretary, from what I've seen they don't do much, bits and pieces with a computer, but hey, if I can work my phone, that should be no problem, I was just telling Arthur the other day about-"

"Mom, quit it."

"- and really, did you _see _Secretary? The nudity? Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Maggie is a-"

"Mom. Shut _up_."

"-and I'm sure not _all _bosses expect to sleep with their secretaries, that's just preposter-"

"Mom! Come on!"

She turns round to me and Ashley looks absolutely baffled.

"Spencer, _must_ you be so rude?"

I widen my eyes in disbelief.

"You're talking about bosses screwing their secretaries! I think _I'm _being perfectly polite!"

Dad's snickering and Ashley's still looking like she's gotten whacked about the head with a two-by-four.

Mom rolls her eyes, "I'm trying to get to know your friend, honey, we were having a conversation."

"Maybe we should move this into the living room," Dad suggest, "There's a new show I wanted to catch tonight."

I smile at him gratefully. "_Please_. Ash and I will be in there in a sec, we'll clear the table for you and mom real quick."

Mom looks like she's about to protest but Ashley steps in, "No, really Mrs. Carlin, it's totally fine. I don't mind at all."

Mom smiles gratefully and nods before following Dad out, and then Ashley smacks the back of my head.

"What the hell was that for?" I whisper offensively.

She gapes at me.

"Oh, I dunno, for telling your _mom_ to ask me about my shitty _waitress_ job and then go on about Maggie Gyllenhaal's_ boobs_ for god's sake!" she says, trying to keep her voice down.

"How the hell was I supposed to know where she was going to take it?"

"What the _hell_ possessed you to ask me about my _job_? I'm not a fucking big time career-driven..." she gestures vaguely, trying to find a word before letting the sentence just fade out and settling for glaring at me and smacking me again.

I start picking plates from the table and shoving them into her hands in an effort to protect myself from permanent brain damage.

"I was trying to take the subject away from relationship statuses, for _your_ sake," I whisper defensively, and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh, yes, thank you so _very_ much, now your mom thinks I'm like... Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when I'm actually a _waitress_."

I go to retort but then pause and think, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Wait, wasn't she a hooker in Pretty Woman? So being a waitress is actually a step up from-"

I stop short after noticing the glare on her face.

"Sorry."

I grab the rest of the dirty dishes and lead her into the kitchen, scrapping off leftovers into the trash and filling up the sink to let them soak. She hasn't said anything else to me yet, and to be frank, I'm still a little puzzled as to why she's so pissed. I'd ask her, but I kind of like not having any broken bones.

She's doing that thing people do, I don't know how to explain it, where they make noises and mutter things as if to let the world know they're pissed off without having to say it. Does that make sense? She's huffing and puffing and grumbling less than pleasant words under her breath, and I'm torn between being mildly frightened and extremely entertained. God knows I'd never tell her the latter, though.

I guess the anger finally boils over as she begins shooting me dirty looks, and after about the tenth one, I foolishly spit out an annoyed "_What?_"

She narrows her eyes and takes a deep breath, and _just_ as she's about to let me have it, Dad yells for us to hurry up, his show's coming on and we don't want to miss it. (Trust me, his words, not mine. I don't give very many shits about whatever it is he's wanting to watch.) She gives me a look that so _clearly _informs me we'll be continuing this later, and stalks past me into the living room.

Women.

I sigh deeply and follow behind her, wondering how this supposed-to-be-fun trip went to shit so fast. Is it really that big of a deal? No, but, god love her, Ashley's (if you can't tell) in the habit of being melodramatic from time to time. A lot of the time, actually. And sometimes it's cute. And sometimes it's not. She's teetering on the line right now.

She's sitting on the loveseat with her arms crossed, legs crossed, foot bopping up and down and eyes burning holes in the television screen as she pointedly ignores me as I sit next to her. I nudge her gently with my shoulder and her head spins around so fast it's a wonder she didn't snap her neck.

I throw my hands up in playful surrender and scoot a bit away from her and the fury that seems to radiate from her very bones. Jesus christ this weekend was obviously a bad idea.

Dad and Mom are so engulfed in whatever this retarded game show is that it kind of feels like a remake of Matilda in here. Ashley's staring at the tv too, but judging from the way her jaw is twitching and her foot that is bopping up and down with increasing speed, I'm willing to bet she's not exactly paying attention to it.

It's dark in here (Dad refuses to watch television with any other light on, something about the glare taking away from the 'experience of it'), so I reach over and thread my fingers loosely through Ashley's, careful to keep them hidden from view. She shoots me another look but, thankfully, doesn't pull away, and I'm almost ready to write this off as a victory despite the fact that her jaw is still twitching and she's probably exerting a lot of effort in not punching me. I absentmindedly trace circles on her palm, knowing how it tickles her, and grin when I see her biting her cheek to keep from chuckling.

The tv show drags on and on, with Mom and Dad initiating random conversations during the commercial breaks, and finally, _finally_ it ends, just as I'm yawning and wondering how much longer I can remain conscious.

Dad stands up, stretching and groaning as his back cracks, Mom rolls her eyes, and Ashley laughs quietly at the two of them.

"Well, kiddos, this old man is headed to bed. I trust I'll see you both bright and early for breakfast, yeah?"

I grin and nod, "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Dad."

Ashley offers a polite smile and a, "Yes, sir," and Mom stands up, yawning just as wide as I was moments ago.

"Alright then, girls, I'll wake up in the morning," she says, smiling at Ashley, "It was lovely having dinner with you tonight."

"Same here, Mrs. Carlin," is Ashley's reply, along with her best smile, "Good night."

Mom and Dad head for the stairs, bickering about something stupid, and we've yet to move. It's quiet for a moment before I ask, "So, you ready for bed?"

She nods, "We sharing the bed or is one of us couching it tonight?"

I roll my eyes, standing up and pulling her along behind me, making my way to the stairs, "We're sharing the bed, moron."

She snorts, "You're lucky I'm not _making_ you sleep on the couch."

I turn around as I make my way up the stairs, scoffing lightly, "As if you could '_make_' me do that in my own parents' house."

"I could if I wanted to."

"Well, it's a good thing you don't want to. You'd embarrass yourself trying."

She elbows me in the ribs as she pushes past me into my room, "Whatever, Carlin."

She begins opening her bags, pulling out pajamas and heading for the bathroom, when I grab her hand and pull her back around to me.

"Are you really gonna change in the bathroom? It's not like I haven't seen you with little to no clothing on," I say, grinning cheekily and wrapping my arms around her waist.

"I'm going to brush my teeth, dimwit, I sense that you're not familiar with the process."

I kiss her cheek and smile.

"You mean you're not into tar build up and funk breath?"

She looks repulsed.

"That's gross."

"Come on, just throw your pajamas on and get in bed with me. I've been waiting for this moment since we _arrived_. I don't care if you've still got porkchops in your teeth. I happen to find that attractive."

She crinkles her nose at me and escapes my grasp, waving with her back turned as she heads out into the hall.

"I'll be back soon, Shrek."

I laugh lightly to myself and change into _my_ pajamas before crawling in bed, stretching out, and letting out a content sigh.

I've just closed my eyes to really savor the moment before, "Um, are you going to move?"

I crack an eye open to see Ashley standing over top of me, looking expectant, "Um, what?"

"You're on my side."

Now I open both eyes just so I can roll them.

"Um, no, special ed, you always sleep on the _left_ side of the bed."

She looks at me like I'm an idiot.

"In _your_ bed. It's facing the opposite direction."

"Ashley. Face the bed. Hold up your left hand. Then enter on _that _side of the bed."

I close my eyes again and attempt to fall back into a doze before she clears her throat.

"What _now_?"

She gapes at me, "What do you mean 'what _no__w_?'? It's the same '_what_' that we just discussed. I'm not getting in that bed until you scoot over."

I throw an arm over my eyes and groan, "Ashley, you're being retarded. I sleep on the right side of the bed. You sleep on the left. Regardless of which fucking _direction_ the bed is facing, that doesn't change."

She puts a hand on her hip and cocks an eyebrow at me, "Move."

"I'm not moving. You're being childish."

"You're being stubborn. Just move over so I can go to sleep. I'm tired."

I look at her, waiting for a sign that she's joking, before I eventually surrender and roll over to the other side of the bed and feel it dip down as she gets in next to me.

She scoots over next to me and throws an arm around my waist, smiling sweetly at me.

"I love you, Spence."

Is it PMS? Is that the deal with her moods?

"Despite the fact that you've given your mom the false image that I'm involved in some high flying business and this will no doubt come back later to bite us both in the ass quite painfully."

I roll my eyes, mentally anyway, seeing as how I really don't want to be smothered in my sleep.

"Let it go, Ash. And I love you, too."

She kisses me gently and I try sneaking a hand up her shirt, grinning suggestively against her mouth, before she swats my hand away.

"Not a chance in hell, _sweetie_."

Women.

* * *

**meh.**


End file.
